


Urban Legend LoVer

by YearwalktheWorld



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A lot of wolf metaphor for some reason, Angst, Au losers club doesnt move away just yet, Comfort, Congenital syphilis, Crude Humor, Gen, I just clicked on my own work excited to read it, I screwed him up, Lots of Murder, Lots of references that i think are clever, M/M, Mentions of previous relationships b/w bev and bill, Murder, Necrosis, One really creepy cashier, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Read first sentence, Realised it was my own, Severe distrust of adults, Severe eczema, That's what Eddies got, Theyre not, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unworthy hatred of adults, Working title, child abuse in later chapters, im done with myself, mentions of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is the 2nd best kept secret of Derry, Maine, trailing closely behind It. He is the town's main urban legend of late, a boy who bikes at night with half his face missing and angry red looking skin that seems to scream about pain.At least, he was just an urban legend until one fateful night, June 1989, he runs into a group walking home from the movies.





	1. Photophobia

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly made this after looking up pictures of syphilis and congenital syphilis and seeing the horrors it lay onto children and adults before penicillin. I don't really get into why Eddie's mom hasn't let him out or got him penicillin or whatever yet but I'm working on that, I promise. Story is also set in late 80's, like the new movie just because I have much more knowledge on this era than the 50's. Reddie is end goal, chapter one is definitely more setting the ground for that story. But definitely end goal. Anyways thanks for reading!
> 
> RE-EDIT : the lovely reddie-in-the-stars is now helping with the newest chapters (20+) so awkward wording, pronoun confusion, and the likes are a ton better now!!
> 
> EDIT EDIT : I want to warn anyone who is reading this first chapter expecting it to follow what the description is - I completely went off the rails further in lol

Eddie’s whole life was made up of secrecy, pain and fear. 

He supposed it was unavoidable, as he would surely scare anyone who got a good look of him. Despite his mother of course. 

Currently, Eddie was holed up in his room, a dusty attic that always got too hot in the summer, and too cold in the winter. The one window was shut, blind closed, bars over it unwavering. He was not to open the blinds in the daytime, not just in fear of others seeing him, but whatever he had

( _his mother sat him down saying Eddie oh Eddie my darling let's talk about it if you want please Eddie don't-_ )

caused his eye to be extremely susceptible to the Sun's harmful rays. 

He flipped onto the next page of his Uncle Scrooge comic book, already knowing what was going to happen. He had 14 comic books in total and all were stories he had already obsessively pored over. The room was dark, only faint light trickling in from the closed 

( _bolted shut heyyyy eddie, get a look of this kid, wanna leave? Nuh uh kiddo ask the boss woman! Maybe you can leave at 2 fucking am_ )

blinds but his eye was used to this. He was used to this. 

“Eddddieee!” He heard his mother sing and he closed the comic, watching her carry in the tray. He felt the sudden urge to scratch the ugly red patches on his legs til they bled again, oh lord how they itched. He resisted though, instead his hands made tight fists. 

“Eddie, my dear boy I made you a some chicken noodle soup for dinner hunny!” The fat lady exclaimed, sounding half out of breath. She was on the other side of the door, waiting for Eddie to open it for her and for a moment Eddie blindly thought of swinging the door open and sprinting past her, until he was out of the house. He would never though, this was his mother. 

“Thank you mommy.” He said quietly, opening up the door for her. His mother lumbered in, carrying a tray with soup, a spoon, a glass of milk, various creams and medications. 

"I have some more cream for your itchy skin, darling. And here’s your medication to stop the rot.” She glanced at him and he instinctively reached down for the itchiness, yearning to scrape it away till his fingers came back slick with blood. 

She set the tray down on the small desk pushed up right next to the window, where the light was strongest. If he sat there for too long his eye would start watering, and a general fuzziness would set over it, a dull throbbing pain setting in quickly. He reserved the desk for eating. 

"If you finish all your soup and take all your medicines I will allow you to go out tonight, at 9. For a whole hour, Eddie. But you must promise you will be careful, and stay away from everyone.” His mother said, turning back to face him. Something in his chest constricted and he felt something akin to hate for his mother in that moment. _I could leave now_ , he thought wildly. _I don't need to take any stupid medicines or eat whatever she’s made me_. These thoughts were, of course, pushed down, and he walked himself to the desk. 

“Yes mommy, I promise I will.” He said, seating himself. “That’s a good little boy Eddie! Now, eat. Also, when you go out, avoid lawns. You know how fresh cut grass is bad for your allergies!” She trilled, already heaving herself to the doorway. 

"Yes mommy.” He called after her, already focusing on the task ahead of him. He drank the soup fast, wanting to get the lukewarm meal out of the way first. Once he had finished off the soup and milk he allowed himself to focus on the medication on the tray. 

Most of the pills were for the rot, not whatever had started the rot, or so he had been told. Whatever started the rot made his teeth sharp and widely spaced out, forever having a children's mouth. It left lesions on his lips, which didn't hurt but were raised a little, causing weird sensations when he drank something. It had started the rot on the right side of his face, his ear first to go before it spread to his cheek and eye. 

Eddie couldn’t ever remember being able to see with both eyes but he could remember the pain as the rot had slowly devoured his eye, leaving a dark socket with caved in skin around it. He remembered that same agony when it left a hole in his cheek where he could plainly touch the bone. The exposed muscles had already gone dry and withered. Those didn't hurt as much. 

But, he had learned when one pain leaves another marks that lot with a no vacancies sign in its wake, holing up snugly. He had traded the agonising rot for the maddening itch of eczema, which traveled over his hands and arms and legs, especially his knees for unknown reasons. The skin was bright red, often cracked with dried blood where he had given into the itch.

Eddie picked up the tube of cream first, knowing that if he waited any longer he would scratch himself raw into agony. He carelessly squirted it onto his arms, sighing in relief as he felt the coolness spread. His knees were always first or second, since the agony was almost constant there, where eczema had taken up its permanent residence even if the skin was new and baby soft. Even if the skin was bloody pulp. Even if the skin already was red and angry. The eczema stayed there. 

He finished with the cream and popped his pills fast, having taken so many before that he didn't even require a glass of water to help him. His routine was finished and now all that was left to do was wait. 

The clock read 8:20.

He finished the comic for the billionth time it felt like, and sat listlessly on his bed, watching the clock. As soon as the clock read 9:00 he hurried down the stairs, into the closet room as his mom called it.

( _see Eddie so if anyone ever comes they will have no idea where you are no idea you could die up there die die die rot away and scream and no one would know where you are! Isn't that fantastic Eddie?_ )

It was a closet that had a door built into the back of it, hidden through a bundle of coats and jackets that Eddie was certain were far too small for his mother to have ever fit in them. He snuck silently out of it, into the living room. 

His mother was sat on the couch right in front of the telly, her eyes glued to it. She let out a vague grunting noise as a way of acknowledging Eddie. He took it and walked past her, to the garage where his bike was kept. 

He didn’t have a helmet, or elbow pads or knee pads, which he was extremely grateful about. When he first learned to ride his mother had forced knee pads on him and the sweat that got trapped in them just went back onto his knees which would aggravate his eczema to the point where even walking was agony. His mother had finally relented into doing away with them when he had bent his knee in front of her, causing the tender skin to rip with a loud sound, blood pooling under and atop and shredded skin hanging loosely from his frame. 

His mother didn't know that he had not worn elbow pads or a helmet for a very long time, instead throwing them into the sewage pipes one night. 

He rolled his bike out quietly, the darkened sky still a bit too bright for his liking. He would deal with it though. He would deal with just about anything to go outside, even damned knee pads. The street was empty, and quiet, with only the occasional window bright. He wobbly got on the bike and pedaled down the street, attempting to find his balance. His knees were already starting to get a bit itchy again, but he had had enough practice in how to ignore that. 

Eddie wasn't entirely sure where he was heading, but he knew he was heading to downtown Derry, keen on people watching. He enjoyed hearing mundane things about people’s lives, watching them casually stroll down the streets. He wanted to do that.

Without really realising it, Eddie had biked himself to the local movie theater, one of his favorite places to people watch. Just a couple weeks ago he had watched a couple make out in their car for what seemed like forever. He had biked off quickly though, once the girl started crying about something and the guy got mean. He had been too scared to watch what was going to happen next. 

He parked his bike on the side of the theater, propped exactly right for him to get on in a moments notice if he was required to. He hid in the shadow, standing as silently as he could. He stood there for a very long time and he was not good at keeping time, but all he hoped for was for it to not be 10 yet. 

Suddenly he heard voices spilling out of the movie theater, many sets of voices all talking over one another, excited whispers and yells. He felt overwhelmed for a moment, the sheer number of them making him stand even stiller, if he even could. 

“N-N-no, you du-duh-duhmbass. That's th-t-the d...do-doctor!” A voice said amused. Several sets of footsteps clanked with the voice. 

“Okay, okay maybe. But what proof do you have? It coulda been the monster!” Another voice protested, and a wave of laughter went around in the group. Eddie leaned closer, eager to hear what they were speaking. 

“Awright Gud Sir! Yessir, yessir mahster Bill iss wight!” A voice cried shrilly, a strange caricature that reverberated in the air. The others groaned and laughed, one even gruffly calling out a “Shut up, Richie!” Eddie, who was drawn into the lull of their friendship, had not been very precautious since. He realised a beat too late that the voices were rounding on him now, and panicked, he knocked over his bike. 

The group rounded on him and time hung out between him. 

He saw 5 boys and a girl. The girl was pretty, red haired with a good smile, well liked he could tell. The leader was dark haired, tall and led the group, striding forward, at least until his eyes met the face of Eddie. Then he stopped the group. A fat boy flanked the girl, looking on the verge of tears. So did the other tall boy next to him, curly hair flying wildly in the wind. On the side of the leader was a dark haired boy with thick glasses, his mouth a perfect O, eyebrows arched high. An African American boy was directly behind him, eyes wide with fear. 

They all stared at him for a moment and he stared back, unable to breathe, unable to move. His knees itched something terrible, the night wind soothing them only a miniscule amount. 

All of the sudden the boy with the glasses broke the silence, a quiet, “Holy fuck!” escaping from his mouth. Eddie felt his chest seize again and he felt as if the eczema flared in one sudden moment, reacting just as he was. 

They all stared some more, until the leader of the group took a cautious step forwards. “H-he-hi. My n-n-n-” his faced turned red as he tripped over the word, but they all allowed him to, too stuck in the moment to do anything else. 

“Nnname is Bill. W-what’s yo-yo-yours?” He managed to spit out. Eddie couldn't speak for a minute, panic still heavy in chest. He reached down and drove his fingernails harshly into the irritated flesh of his knees. 

“Eddie.” He whispered back finally and the group glanced amongst themselves. Had they expected a different answer? Who were they? Just what the fuck were they planning?

“Oh fuck, yeah! I’ve heard about you! You're like, an urban legend!” The boy with the glasses crowed excitedly. Eddie was shaking at this point, too overwhelmed to attempt to escape or fight. He simply shut down, and dug his fingers deeper into his skin, raking them upwards and causing blood to spill. Bill flinched slightly, watching as Eddie frantically scratched. 

“Th-that lo-o-oks itch-chhy.” Bill said sympathetically. Eddie nodded, and just itched harder. “I have to go.” Eddie said monotonically. “Do you know what time it is?” 

The fat boy took a harsh breath and looked down at his wrist, before he whispered, “It’s 9:45.” “Yeah lucky it isn't last summer! There was a curfew!” The boy with glasses said excitedly. 

Eddie felt irritation grate over him, and he snapped a quick, “ I know that!” at the boy while he leaned down and picked up his bike. He got on it in the silence, getting ready to pedal off and deal with the consequences later.

“W-we won't tell a-an-anyone.” Bill said, after a beat. Eddie looked at him harshly, trying to find any sign of dishonestly. He found none. “Thanks.” He said simply. 

“WELLLLL pip pip and cheerio, good sir! Off you go, Lord Eds!” The boy with glasses screeched, dipping low at the waist. Eddie rolled his eye, saying, “Don't call me that.” 

“You should come hang out with us. At the Barrens.” The girl said suddenly, and with that the rest seemed to lose their fear of him too, which he sensed was not entirely about what he looked like. There was a deeper fear there, an uneasiness over him that had left. He didn't know what that uneasiness was though. He knew he should’ve ignored her, biked away hard and never come back to this theater, but instead he stopped, liking the positive attention. 

“The sun… it hurts my...eye.” He told them. The curly haired boy seemed to be thinking, before calling out, “What about some sunglasses?” Eddie quirked his eyebrows. 

“Sunglasses?” He echoed. The others looked around uncomfortably. “Yeah…we can bring you some, tomorrow! If you wanna come.” The girl offered. Eddie hesitated. This was a big moment in his life and he knew it. Going outside during the day...he had never done that before. It would be scary. He would go blind. His mother would kill him, bolt the closet door shut, leave him inside to rot rot rot away…

But the appeal of danger and possible fun was too enticing. Besides, sunglasses might be a good thing, whatever they were. “Yes.” He said after a beat, visibly shaking again in fear. He gave them his address, memorised for the extremely rare occasion if he ever needed someone's help. Bill smiled afterwards and Eddie felt a bit of the fear wash away. He instinctively knew that he could make things better. 

“You have to come at lunchtime. That’s when my mom will be gone. She goes out for lunch everyday, and doesn't check on me til dinnertime. Someone will have to distract her so I can get back in.” He stressed, still itching away at the new layer of skin. “Oh, I got this.” The glasses boy said confidently. Eddie rolled his eye again but smiled. He probably did, judging from his attitude before. 

“I really need to go now.” Eddie finally said. He knew it was probably a few minutes after 10, and that his mother was probably flipping out. He would have to pedal extremely fast. 

“Seh-see you tom-m-morrow!” Bill called after him as he began pedaling away. Eddie raised his hand in response, before pedaling faster. 

He had broken a major rule, and was gearing up to break another. He felt as if he should feel scared but instead a strange sort of determination filled his frame. He was going outside tomorrow, and hanging out with real actual people.

And no one, not even his mother, would be able to stop him.


	2. Hutchinson Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie ponders a little over the urban legend that is reality and Eddie has a surprising day at the Barrens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I claim no deep medical knowledge of the diseases/infections I mention. Most is pulled straight from my imagination where even the slightest bit of logic is thrown out the window.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter was again laying some more groundwork but I'm sowing the seeds for the Reddie, I promise. Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Richie had never seen someone whose physical being just looked so painful. Watching the boy bike away frantically, he let out a low whistle. 

“Damn, he looked like some kinda failed lab accident!” He cackled. Stan shot him a look and swat at him.

“That’s not funny Richie.” He mumbled. They made their way to their bikes, conveniently placed just a few feet behind where Eddie had stood. They were silent on the way to their bikes, all thinking of what had just happened. 

“Do you guys think…” Ben trailed off, hooking one leg over his bike as the others did the same. 

“Think what Benny boy? That Eddie was some kinda zombie?” Richie asked amused, but there was some truth to his words. He genuinely wondered what was wrong with the boy. 

Stan swatted at him again but Richie was ready this time, backing up before he could be hit. “If he’s contagious.” Ben mumbled. 

The loser’s club looked uncomfortably around at one another. Richie felt his fear raise for a moment, because honestly, who wanted some fucking craters in their face? Besides, his eyesight was bad enough as it was. And his skin...well they had watched as he had scratched at it till it bled. 

“Nu-no. He-he-he wouldn’t h-h-have agreed to co-co-coome.” Bill said finally, and that was that. Because his word was final and his word was true. I pledge allegiance to the Bill, Richie thought dazedly.

Forcing his cocky grin back on his face and the sarcastic tone that rarely left his voice he croaked out, “Oh yes, tomorrow we’ll have so much fun we won’t even remember what life was like with two eyes, eh guys? We can go hang with the lepers!” The group laughed amongst themselves and he relaxed. The serious tone that had dominated last summer 

( _A paw swiped and got him right on the face his eyes were droopy oh god am I dying Bill save me!_ ) 

had all but been erased and he would not allow anyone to bring that back, even if they were a harmless boy. 

“Anyways, I’ve got to go home, gonna make myself a hazmat suit for tomorrow! You want one Benny boy?” He grinned at the other boy, pedaling away slowly. 

Ben rolled his eyes but returned a small smile, letting everyone know that the fears had all but left him. “I think I'll be good, for now.” He said. 

“Awight, awight massah! Bey off meself now, say you lassies tommmarah!” He shrieked in a vague Voice he hadn't given a name yet. The others laughed again, calling goodbyes to him before pedaling off themselves. Richie let the newfound silence of the night drag his attention back to the boy. He had heard rumors about him before, from bigger boys who had told them stories about a boy who would hunt and kill at night and steal your face. 

Eddie seemed more like the type of guy who would steal your chips, cry and apologise all while you knew you left them out for him to take. 

Richie also had to admit, as horrific as the one side of his face had looked, with a blank socket and holes in his face, he hadn't been ugly per se either. His hair was brown, wild from biking, and his eye had been wide and a nice brown color again. Cute looking for a zombie, Richie thought but shook that thought out of his head. Sure, guys can be cute but when you start thinking these things one thing can lead to another...and Richie was certain he didn't want to end up some sort of half made human. That didn't mean he wasn't looking forward to seeing Eddie again tomorrow, because hey, maybe there was a vacancy in the losers club. 

And maybe zombie Eddie was just the boy to fill it. 

~~~~~~~~

Eddie couldn't breathe. He couldn’t breathe because it was 12:00, his mom had just given him a pbj sandwich with milk 

( _and his medication of course he would never ever forget that no siree, one pill to stop the rot but what if he was already rotting oh god-_ ) 

and left for lunch. Which meant, any second a knock would come on the door and he would…

Ignore it, yes ignore it and let them believe they had the wrong house and they could bike away and be disappointed and he would feel stupid and sad and cry but at least he didn't leave. 

A knock came on the door and Eddie flew down the stairs to open it. 

He stumbled as soon as he got out of the dark closet, into a brightly lit living room. Too bright. Much much much too bright. Oh god, he couldn't even get to the door because he was in so much agony, he wasn’t used to it being brighter than a full moon’s gaze wandering into his room but this was as if someone had taken a lightbulb and shoved it right next to his eye. 

“The door is open!” He yelled, sitting flat on the floor, covering his face with his hands. He was getting itchy but if he removed his hands his face would be in agony again. He heard the doorknob turn and thanked God that he had been right, that it had opened and he heard some people enter.

He heard one, Bill if he remembered correctly, call out, “Eh-eh-Eddie? Where ar-r-re you?” He shut his eyes tighter and quickly raked a hand over his burning knee. 

“Here!” He yelled out, and he heard the footsteps get closer to him before they got faster.

“Oh God, what’s wrong?” One voice called out and Eddie could do nothing but open and close his hand, stretched toward them and rasp, “Sunglasses?” Quickly the object was placed in the outstretched hand and he jammed them onto his face. The world went dark but not too dark, so he cautiously opened his eye. 

“Holy crap.” was all he could say. 

He blinked at the three boys in front of them who had varying degrees of happiness on their faces. The leader, Bill, he could remember because of his dark hair and self-assuredness. He had a wide smile on his face, and held his hand out to Eddie.

“Hi.” He said confidently, and Eddie took his hand, getting to his feet. He looked around in amazement. A world that had once been bright and piercing, unforgiving and harsh, was now soft. The dark he was used to welcomed him and he no longer felt the pain in his eye. 

“These,” he said, “are the best goddamn invention ever.”

The other boys laughed and he felt a smile begin to form on his own face. It felt good, comfortable just standing there with the others. Of course it had only been a couple of minutes but he knew, these guys were his friends. He was part of something now. They felt it too, he could tell, as they smiled at him. 

“Welcome to the Losers club Eddie, now at maximum capacity with 7 members!” One of the others boys yelled, and Eddie remembered him as the annoying one with glasses. 

“Oh, I knew it was a Losers club after I realised you were a member of it.” He shot back and felt a flood of happiness when the other boys laughed, even the one he had insulted. 

“That’s pretty good, Eds. You think of that one all night? I'm Richie, by the by but you can call me Dreamy.” He quirked, leaning down to shove his face in the smaller boys. “And that’s Stan the Man!” 

“Hello.” Stan the Man said calmly. That sent them all howling again and Eddie couldn't help but feel so warm in that moment, not the heat that came with his eczema or whatever his mom said was ailing him, but a nice warmth. It reminded him of a beach, although he would never see one. 

But you said you would never go outside during the day and here we are, Eddie thought suddenly. Anything is possible. 

“Be-behverly and be-be-Ben are already th-there. Mi-m-m-mike can't make it.” Bill said suddenly and the three other boys, Eddie included knew that this meant it was time to get the show on the road. They complied and went into the garage, where Eddie walked his bike out of the house, still marveling through the sunglasses. 

Hopping onto their bikes, Eddie followed the three other boys out to the Barrens, nervous energy palpable between them. But the sunglasses held and he felt fine, better than he had in years. He felt alive. Once they had arrived, he noticed the girl and fat boy who were already there, in deep conversation. They noticed the boys roll up and broke apart, standing up to greet them. 

“Eddie, you made it!” The girl cried out, and put an arm on his shoulder. Eddie flinched away, knocking over his bike. He hadn't been touched in a very long time, and for all the excuses his mother gave he knew why. He was sick, and sickness spread easy. He spread easy.

“Sorry.” He muttered and attempted to quiet his unease that had been cultivated by his mother. She was not to be thought about for now. Beverly gave him an understanding smile and continued to talk. 

“Me and Ben kinda wanna go swimming but we didn't bring swimsuits, and I know for a fact neither did any of you. So anyone who’s a pussy and can't stand seeing anyone else in their underwear can back out now.” She raised an eyebrow challengingly, staring at all of them one by one. 

“Pip pip lady! You know that it is ever informal to show even ankle! I forbid thee, I forbid!” Richie shrieked, throwing himself at her feet. Eddie felt removed from the scene, a cold feeling having travelled down his spine. He knew what his body looked like and he knew that the others could see his legs and arms and face but he didn't know how they would react to his chest. 

The rot had got him bad there, his lungs wheezing and skin turning papery and black before simply sloughing off. It left a massive indent where a couple of his ribs should be, where they poked out from beneath his skin, where eczema caused him to rip holes in desperation. In simple, Eddie looked like the whole upper right side of his body just simply stopped working. The exposed bone had turned a nasty yellowish color, the way teeth turn yellow if not brushed frequently. 

Eddie felt as though he looked like a monster, but he wouldn’t stop his rebellions now, just because he was scared of judgement. He clumsily dropped his shorts with the rest of them, thankful the eczema stopped its’ assault on his legs after his knees, took off his shoes and socks and mentally prepared to take off his shirt. 

He hadn't thought of bandaging his chest, feeling as though they would just be talking. He felt exposed and watched the others take their shirts off.

"Can someone help me?” He asked, feeling dumb. “My sunglasses...I can't take off my shirt without them off but…” 

Richie stepped forwards with a grin and placed a hand under the sunglasses, then plucking them off his face. Eddie let out a yelp, before relaxing as he felt Richie help him take off his shirt, still covering his eye.

"Awight, no warries hair massah! No warries at-” he heard the voice break suddenly with a gulp and he knew the boy had discovered the horrors on him. 

“Pretty gross right?” Eddie mumbled, still yanking his shirt off.

“Damn straight, Eds, damn straight.” Richie whistled back, before finally getting the shirt off of him. He handed Eddie back his sunglasses and Eddie puts them on, looking at the faces of horror before him.

Only Richie seemed to have gained his composure, smiling wildly at everyone. “Getta load of this, Big Bill! Eddie has to brush his ribs and his teeth! YAZZA YAZZA YOWW-” He yelled and Eddie felt better. He would rather be made into a joke than a monster.

Bill smiled and the rest did too. “Beh-beep beep Richie.” He said fondly. 

After the awkwardness was put behind them they delved into the water, which wasn't very deep so Eddie didn't even have to worry about holes in his chest or face or his sunglasses getting knocked off or whatever. He was just a kid playing in the water, like the rest of them. They crawled out of the water and laid on the bank, Eddie in between Richie and Ben. He turned to Ben, who had been staring at him and said, “It’s okay. You can ask me.” 

Ben blushed immediately, a deep red, and sat up. “I don't...I wasn't...it's just-” Eddie sat up too, followed by the rest of them.

“No I'm serious, Ben. It's okay, anyone can ask me about it. I'll tell you the truth.” Eddie, for once in his life, felt comfortable with sharing. He wanted them to know so that they would understand what happened. He didn't want to be a monster figure in their eyes. He wanted to be understood. 

“What happened?” Ben blurted out, eyes wide and trained on him. Eddie looked around and saw that they all were, even Richie who looked semi serious for once.

"I don't know what the main thing is, but there was something messed up with me when I was born. My mom won't tell me what, just tells me that I could die at anything so I gotta be really careful. One time…” he hesitated, not wanting them to think he was childish. He pushed forward though, wanting to show his newfound friends what had happened.

"I snuck out, at night without my mom's permission. Something must've gotten into me that night because a week later I started...started…” Eddie could feel tears rising up, remembering the time that he had first found the rot. Broken through his skin, touched his own bone and 

( _Oh Eddie see what happens when you go outside on bad nights? You rot rot rot inside out Eddie and soon there will be nothing left of you but a husk and a brain and you will screeeeaaammm as you feel yourself rot away_ ) 

he had screamed and his mom had come running, as best she could. 

“I rotted.” He choked out and burst into tears, scared little puffs of air escaping him.

Eddie felt a hand come down on his back, soft and sweaty, a quiet voice that usually shrieked saying, “That sucks big time Eddie Spaghetti.”

He let out a little laugh through the cries and said, “Oh you bet your fur it did.” More hands touched him, his back, arms, shoulders until they all were, a circle murmuring over the terror of rotting away, a circle that just that day had been hesitantly made at this place. The circle was strong now, and comforting, and even though he didn't even really know who he was Eddie found himself wishing Mike were there with them. 

“It...it got really bad for a while but eventually it just...up and left. I don't know how. It just did. The itchy skin came after and that's what I've been dealing with since.” He finished quietly, and all the hands left, all but one which lingered a moment longer and patted his back gently. It was soft and sweaty. 

“I-it's gen-gehtting late. We sh-should bring yuh-youuu home, Ed-eh-Eddie.” Bill said, standing up. The others followed quickly, throwing their clothes on and getting on their bikes. 

“How exactly am I getting inside unnoticed again? The back door is unlocked, but my mom will totally see if I just waltz past the front of the house.” Eddie asked, extremely worried his mom would notice. He was a rebel, but only when mother dearest had no clue. 

Richie looked at Stan and broke out into a big grin, while Stan groaned and covered his face. “Me and Stan are gonna pretend we're on a mission from the synagogue to make people Jews or whatever, and when we talk to her, you sneak inside! Voila!” Richie crowed.

Eddie considered it for a moment, thinking of every possible outcome before saying, “That is, beyond doubt, the stupidest idea I have ever heard.” The losers burst out laughing, even Stan, who bent over his bike with laughter. 

“But is it just stupid enough to work?” Beverly said, trying to sound serious and failing. They all snorted and another round of laughter engulfed them all. 

“Probably! Just as long as she isn't looking at the side of the house.” Eddie said. They biked up from the Barrens, to Derry, where they continued to talk and laugh. Eddie noticed that Bill was careful to guide them where no one was, which made Eddie's chest constricted with love for Bill and anger. He didn't want to hide his whole life. 

Ben abruptly stopped and turned, followed by Beverly. “Bye guys, good luck!” Beverly called out, giving Eddie that understanding smile again.

"Bye.” He said back quietly. Ben looked at him, a guilty expression on his face and Eddie snorted. “Ben, really I would’ve told you guys anyways and cried. Don't worry about it.” His face softened and he smiled, a real smile at Eddie and said goodbye to him too. 

Soon Bill, Richie, Stan and Eddie were on his street. Bill and Eddie hung back as Richie and Stan walked up his doorstep and knocked on the door. Eddie felt his heartbeat pick up when his mother answered the door, but she looked bored instead of frantic. He was in the clear. 

“HELLO MRS! MY NAME IS RICHARD TOZIER AND THIS IS STANLEY URIS!” Richie shrieked and Eddie watched, flabbergasted as his mother flinched and stared at the boys. Stan looked ready to die from embarrassment. Him and Bill snuck around the house, listening to Richie scream off the reasons that his mother should join the local synagogue and “BECOME A REAL TRUE HONEST TO HASHEM JEW!” they made it to the back door, and as he went to open it, Bill stopped him. 

“Eh-Eddie. I-I-I want you t-to know...we're heh-here for you.” His eyes were light, and Eddie understood what true, pure love was. He didn't love Bill romantically, no, he didn't want to kiss him or anything like that but he knew he loved him right there, the way he could tell all the rest of the Losers did.

And he felt love for all the rest of them too. His eye started to water again out of full on gratitude this time, and he hugged him out of an instinct he didn't even know was in him. Bill hugged him back, no hesitation, just love. 

Eddie pulled away, tears dripping and gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Big Bill.” He said, before slipping into the house.

He could hear Richie still screaming nonsense, could here is mothers curt replies, and with that knowledge he slipped upstairs, into his room where he removed the sunglasses. After a moment of hesitation he stuck them under his bed, far under. 

The love and happiness inside him began to fade as he heard Richies’ voice fade. They were leaving now, and he was stuck with his mom again. 

And for the first time, an uneasy thought wouldn't leave his head. 

Why hadn't his mother ever gotten him sunglasses?


	3. About Eddie, From Bill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill ponders the newest member of the Losers club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't chapter 3, just a little add on I wrote in school today. Chapter 3 will be here probably by 6 or 7, judging homework and ample time to look it over. Mostly written bc I felt the Reddie in next chapter was a little too soon, so I tried to flesh it out a bit more. Enjoy and thanks for reading!! 
> 
> Edit: lol 6666 words

Bill was known for being protective of the Losers. He was known to stand up for them, fight for them, and be there for them. He was even known to have dated one of them, but him and Bev agreed that they were more together for the image than any real feelings. They broke cleanly and remained best friends. He had never known any of the other Losers to get together, something he wouldn't have minded anyways. It was their business who they dated and what they did. But still, no couples. 

At least, until Eddie joined them. 

Eddie made something in Bill yearn for George, a kind of emptiness that the boy opened and filled at the same time. Perhaps it was because they had both been so vulnerable, Georgie had been so small and fragile, Eddie being so physically broken. The day that him, Stan and Richie had found him on his living room floor, holding his face in such a bewildered pain, Bill felt himself expand. In that moment, he knew that Eddie was part of the club, that he was what had been missing when 

(You think I'm gone It roared and cackled one is missing one is missing and you are nothing nothing Georgie says Hi Bill Hey) 

they had confronted It. No, Bill was not the one whose heartbeat trembled at the sight of the boy but he was certain he knew whose did. Richie was always such a trashmouth, even last summer, maybe even especially last summer. So to see him quiet down around Eddie, really appearing to be listening to the words he was saying…well put simply Richie was definitely whipped for the boy. 

The thought made him smile because he was also certain the other boy was developing his own crush on Richie. He didn't know him all that well, it only being a couple of days since their day out at the Barrens but he felt comfortable making guesses about him. When not with Richie, the boy was quieter, not because he was shy but because he more enjoyed listening than talking. But with Richie the boy really shined, spouting off great one-liners and making them all laugh. Bill was more than happy for them, seeing as how both had not been having the best of times lately. Which led him to the unease surrounding Eddie's home life. 

Now, Bill would never claim to be a doctor or anything, but the holes that dotted Eddie's body seemed...no, they were unsafe. Unsafe because he knew what infection was and how just a little bit of bacteria could make something really bad happen. He had watched a documentary about it once. He felt uneasy about the fact that Eddie never had any open wounds bandaged, but the boy didn't even seem to know that he should have them bandaged. Shouldn't his mom do that for him? 

And his eczema, Bill knew, was extremely troublesome. He had once watched Eddie scratch himself raw, and still moan in pain about how it itched and burned. He was never satisfied with the minimal relief he could grant himself. Bill was certain Eddie needed to see a doctor, but he had never heard Eddie ever mention one. 

He wondered if Eddie knew what a doctor was.

He wondered if Eddie knew what school was. 

He held these ideas in his chest, concern over the smaller 

(younger brother with a ripped off arm o-uh-oh G-g-god Guh-guh-georgie!) 

boy growing in his heart. He would never voice his concerns, not until he was really certain something was wrong. Plus, Richie was watching out for him too, and he knew Richie would protect him. They all would, and Eddie would do the same for them. 

So Bill cultivated his field, because the soil of a boys heart may be stonier, but he was damn sure tending it the best he could.


	4. Syphilitic Rhinitis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie wonders over the lightning lips of Eddie, and Eddie has a great day at the movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the Reddie might be a bit sudden and I wholeheartedly agree with everyone saying it came out of left field. But, this is a Reddie story so I decided to make it one. I had an ephiphany about this story in the shower after posting the Bill excerpt so thankfully I have a much clearer idea into where this is heading. Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Update: I've been slowly going through and starting to comb through the chapters and formatting them, it should be easier to read now hopefully and italics and all that! :)

Richie knew, looking at who he affectionately called zombie boy, that he wanted to kiss him. 

They were all hanging down by the Barrens, more specifically in the woods surrounding the edge of them, talking about stupid things and playing stupid games that under no circumstances would Richie ever admit to enjoying.

But he was immensely happy to watch Eddie have fun, having never played games that involved more than just himself or sometimes rarely his mother. Richie watched him as he pushed his hair back, letting out a shriek of laughter as Beverly chased him around. 

As happy as it made him, he was also intensely terrified for Eddie. Seeing the indented skin a couple days ago, seeing where ribs poked out, where holes were...he lied awake at night sometimes, feeling the skin that separated his hands and ribs. He wondered sometimes if Eddie did the same, but instead feeling his actual ribs. He was terrified that Eddie would rot away again, himself alongside.

It had only been a couple of days, just barely past a week since he had gotten a look at his ribs and Richie had fallen, fallen utterly at the feet of the zombie boy. Now that he was sure Eddie wasn't infectious, he knew, sooner or later, he would give into the urge to kiss him. The scars on his lips reminded Richie of the way his art teacher had drawn lightning for them to reference, and he was curious to see if the boy would give him an electrical shock. 

“Richie!” Stan yelled and pushed him along with him, snapping him out of his Eddie fueled haze.

“What? What?!” He replied frantically, his mind instantly conjuring up images of 

( _A clown named Pennywise and Beverly's dad and a werewolf who slashed his forehead open and crumpled the mighty Richie Tozier_ ) 

last summer.

Stan’s eyes were bright and shiny, not with tears but excitement and he pushed them forwards still. “Eddie's it! Don't let him get you!”

And Richie's stomach dropped because he was still stuck on that thing last summer, It, and he remembered when he had actually thought Eddie might have been It.

“What?!” He shrieked, still fighting memories and trying to separate them from reality. 

Stan finally realised that something was wrong and slowed, releasing his grip on Richie.

“It as in tag, Richie. He's the tagger.” Stan said not unkindly and pat his back as Richie stood there shivering. He had realised that was most likely what Stan was talking about, but the thought 

( _It luring Richie in with a cute little face and voice and tears and lightning lips and when they kissed his teeth which were cute and widely spaced turned sharp and deadly biting his mouth and face oh god Eddie why_ ) 

that Eddie might have been It still gripped him tightly. “Sorry, Richie.” Stan said, still patting him on the back. 

Richie shook his head and a small smile formed on his face. “I just thought we were gonna have to kick some clown butt again.” He said weakly and Stans’ laugh was equally weak. 

He heard him before he saw him, because only one of the Losers were as clumsy as that in Barrens, the rest had had all last summer to practice and know the layout.

Eddie was clumsily stumbling through the thick foliage right into them. He spotted them and let out a laugh, hurrying a bit to catch up. “I won't tag you I promise!” He called out and Richie's heart gave a little twitch.

Of course he wouldn't because this is Eddie and Eddie would rather not play at all than risk someone being upset at him for tagging them. 

“What's up Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie tried to say as casually as possible. Stan snorted and walked away, not believing whatever ploy Eddie was pulling.

Eddie pouted at the nickname, and Richie watched in amazement as even the socket where an eye used to be creased downwards. The fact that he was still alive at all gave him great joy and unease. If he could still be alive like that than anyone could rot and have to live with it. 

“Don't call me that Richie, it’s dumb.” The smaller boy said, standing right next to him. True to his word he didn't reach over and tag him.

“Oh but you're just so cute!” And with that he reached over and pinched the boys untouched cheek before he could swat his hand away. Eddie had a blush almost immediately, and just for the tender sake of young love Richie kept his hand on his cheek. 

There was a pleasant moment of silence where Richie realised if he wanted to, that now would be a good time to kiss him. But he didn't, as he would make their first kiss the best ever, a vague idea that he knew would not be the best at the Barrens.

Eddie cleared his throat, and Richie finally moved his hand away. “I was thinking, I have an idea to get someone else tagged out.” 

“As long as we target Stanely I'm in.” Richie replied immediately, an actual grin on his face again.

Eddie grinned back at him and said, “Sure, we can target Stan. But it's gonna require both of us.” Eddie continued to babble about his plan which involved Richie pretending he was it and running Stan directly into Eddies path, but Richie was barely listening. 

Honestly he could just stare at the other boy all day, picking out little nuances of his behavior. Like the way he was learning to stop itching his eczema but every now and then would put his hands into tight fists. Richie knew that meant he was really itchy, probably on his knees. 

“Are you ready, Richie? I think I know which way Stan went!” Eddie said excitedly and he nodded. He was ready for anything Eddie threw at him. 

With that, they were off. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie had spent a solid couple of weeks with the Losers club, sneaking out and sneaking in. Consistently his mom opened the door every single time, a fact that surprised him. But perhaps she was just as lonely as he had been, before that night at the movies. 

He had gotten to know all of the Losers better, gotten to know their lives and their stories. The only thing that he still felt curiosity about was something that had happened last summer. Something bad and it was over, for now but would probably come back because Eddie hadn't been with them.

He had been flabbergasted hearing that, seeing that Bill and the others genuinely believed he held a spot of such value that whatever bad thing had happened wouldn’t be stopped without him. Without them all. 

Consistently, almost all of the Losers met together, and if more than 2 said no then everyone bounced soon after he realised. He enjoyed that, knowing if there ever came a time he couldn’t leave, the group would feel incomplete without him. He felt incomplete without them, too. 

Cutting off his thinking was the usual knock on the door, which he ran to get as always. Except now he had the sunglasses to protect his eyes, so he didn't need to cry in agony or be cautious. 

( _That little niggling thought about why his mother kept this from him had been locked securely in the back of his subconscious and if anyone else had mentioned the strangeness to him he would would have blinked at them and shrugged but still why?_ ) 

He opened the door, grin on his face and Bill grinned back at him. Richie was there too, a bit off sideways, holding something in his arms.

“Hiyah Big Bill, Hiyah trashmouth.” He said happily, letting them in for a minute. “Others already at the Barrens?” He asked.

Always Bill came to get him and he had a strange powerful feeling that he reminded Bill of someone and Bill was determined to protect him.

He didn't mind though, he looked up to Bill like he was the only one who could ever change things in this darkened universe. Richie usually tagged along too, and Stan a few times also. 

“Nah, just you, me and this mess!” Richie exclaimed, reaching up to pinch Eddie on the 

( _one with no holes of course the good one the uninfected one yes_ ) 

cheek.

Eddie swatted the hand away but allowed him to rest it there for a beat or two, just feeling the pure warmth radiate from it.

“Just us three? What're we gonna do?” Eddie asked. He had never been with a group that small all week, usually groups disbanded by the time 3 members already left. They were like that, one big group or single units. No pairing up allowed. 

( _Which is a shame right Eddie because you wouldn't mind pairing up with Richie huh think about that now_ ) 

“Guh-gunna s-s-see a movie.” Bill said determined, that knowing grin on his face. Eddie felt everything in him flare as it normally did when he got panicked or anxious. He had managed to keep the itching to a minimum but now he had too, he reached down and raked his nails across his knees hard.

“Are you guys out of your minds? I can't go in there!” Eddie said. Richie clucked at the blood now pooling and gently pulled one hand away, still holding the bundle. 

“W-w-we know yuh-you can't, not l-l-like that.” Bill replied, gentle tone resonating in his voice, and Eddie felt a flash of guilt. He should’ve known Bill would have a solution, Bill and Richie.

Richie really saved him from himself sometimes, a complete opposite from the crazy loud self he usually was. He would put a hand on his back when he got overwhelmed, or pull his hands away when he scratched too hard or crack a joke when he desperately needed him to. Eddie really liked Richie. 

“Tada!” Richie said, and unrolled the bundle. It was a scarf, and a roll of bandages, the type you see people wear in movies. 

“We're gonna cover your face so no one can see and if anyone asks we can say you fell and broke your cheekbone!” He grinned broadly at Eddie and he felt calmer. It was a pretty good disguise, he had to admit.

"C-ca-can I have so-so-some water?” Bill asked, always polite, always respectful.

“Of course Big Bill, take whatever you want.” Eddie reminded him because it was true. Eddie would give anything to Bill or Richie or anyone in the Losers club for that. They could ask for his physical heart and he would plunge his hand in his chest and joke when it took a few tries to rip it out. 

“Nowwww les git da man dressed!” Richie said, slipping into one of his Voices. Eddie snorted but stood still, allowing Richie to unwind the bandages and start winding them gently up his face, first covering his socket. It was tricky business, Richie being as careful as possible to avoid knocking the sunglasses off and Eddie having to twist with his hands, but it was better than being blinded.

He shivered when Richie brushed the hair out of his way and kept his hand there, petting the hair gently. For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to cover his face not because he felt ashamed, but because he was certain he looked foolish, blushing and staring at the other boy. The only reason he didn't was because the other boy was blushing too.

Once he was done with the bandages he took a step back and let out a quiet, “Damn.” Eddie didn't respond, not knowing what to say. 

Richie took an uncertain step forward again, lingering on his face. He felt his chest tighten, not knowing what to say. He knew he loved everyone in the Losers club, but he loved them like family.

He didn't know anymore what his feelings were about Richie, about when he put a hand on his back or touched his arm or said something kind when he could've been plain old Richie Tozier. He wondered if the other boy felt the same way. 

He felt his hand before he realised what was happening, the other boy tracing over the raised marks on his lips. They were harsh white lines that split and ended their marks a little before his nose and a little before the end of his chin.

“You look like you got kissed by lightning.” Richie said softly and Eddie did not detect any sarcasm in his voice.

“Yeah?” He managed to get out, throat blocked with something akin to fear but softer and kinder. 

“Yeah.” Richie whispered and Eddie suddenly knew what was going to happen, they would close the space in between them and...he blushed so hard that he shut his eye hard. Richie chuckled and pet his hair, thumbing over the marks before retreating.

“Not yet, Eddie Spaghetti. Let's save that for the movies.” He said lowly, just as Bill reentered the room.

“Nu-not bad Ri-Richie. Yuh-you forgot th-th-the scar-arf though.” Bill said admiringly, pointedly ignoring the blush painting both his friend's cheeks. What happened between them was private til they wanted it public.

“Oh but look at his wittle teethies! I can't cover them up!” Richie cooed, pulling Eddie's lips apart to reveal them. 

“Oh yeah? Wait til I bite you.” Eddie challenged back and he saw him wince for a moment, remembering something. Richie shook it off though, cracking a wide grin again.

“Oh, getting feisty? Well I'll just shut you up then.” He countered and quickly wrapped the scarf around his mouth. Bill and Richie laughed, pleased with themselves. Despite trying to feel annoyed, Eddie couldn't help but smile also. He loved making them laugh. 

“M-mo-movie is sta-starting soon.” Bill said, and again the other two boys knew it was their cue to leave. They walked out to the garage, where they hopped on their bikes and got going. Eddie was happy to know the way they were going this time, still not entirely sure he could find his way to the Barrens by himself. 

And look, actual people. Eddie had never been in the presence of so many, some just walking, smiling, laughing. Tons and tons of them. They made him feel dizzy in a good way.

Arriving at the theater, they quickly chained their bikes in their designated places and walked inside. “Someone is paying for me right?” Eddie asked, his voice half muffled by the scarf. Richie flashed him his signature cocky grin and held up his money. 

“Don't worry, I've got this.” He said confidently. Others in the theater openly stared at them and Eddie realised, even if the disguise was a good one, he still looked ridiculous. 

Half his face covered in bandages, sunglasses on top of that, scarf covering his mouth, and a t-shirt with shorts, of course. Even the old lady at the ticket booth stared, although she looked as if she stared at everyone who walked inside. 

“Thray tickets fur da Batman moofie.” Richie said, slinking up to the booth low. The Voice still sounded like Richie Tozier, but remarkably it sounded like a young gangster Richie Tozier. He was getting better, thankfully. 

Eddie snorted with Bill who had turned as red as Eddie's knees. The lady glared at him, but took the money and gave them the tickets too. 

“You see? I told you I would win her over.” Richie exclaimed, handing their tickets to them. Eddie rolled his eye, a gesture they knew he was doing but just couldn't be seen.

“No dumbass, she was just too angry to say anything!” They all laughed again and Eddie felt satisfied and slightly terrified. Here he was, not only out during the day but in public. Watching a movie. He had only ever seen a few movies, the tv in his room now broken. He remembered

( _never go outside without my permission again you see this is what happened eddie you rot and all the fun things get taken away so you just have to sit there and rot_ ) 

it being broken as punishment for that night he went outside, the night that started the rotting. He didn't know what had hurt worse, the slow feeling of tissue dying or his boredom. Both probably. 

Without realising it he had reached down, scratching at the skin he had tried so hard to leave alone. Fear did that to him, giving him a way to snuff his fears out and replace it with pain. But what was he afraid of? 

“-ddie stop it, you're hurting yourself!” He heard a concerned voice say, felt the hand yank his own away from the flesh. He jerked away, startled and found his fingertips bloody, skin caught under the nails.

Bill and Richie watched him as they stood there, right in front of the theater doors. He felt himself go red, not out of the loving embarrassment he felt earlier with Richie, but the roiling of guilt and shame in his stomach. 

“I'm good. Just…” he trailed off and left it at that and they let him. No one wanted to spoil the day, even if it had a few minor bumps.

“Let's go on the balcony!” Richie suggested and led the others up, onto the balcony where Eddie felt even dizzier if that was possible. He was looking out, seeing all the children and adults sitting below him. He felt something he imagined Kings felt when they looked at all their subjects.

“Buh-batman is m-my favorite h-h-hero.” Bill said happily, which led to an intense debate over who was truly the best, Richie pointing out Superman's’ plethora of powers and Bill flat out denying he was any good. Eddie was glad just to listen. 

When the movie started he couldn't help but gasp, the screen brightening, sound filling the room and the lights darkening. It was magical and sacred and he felt as if everyone else felt it too. This moment was sacred, right before the movie started, when everyone quieted down and whispered excitedly.

Eddie removed the sunglasses, and looked around. His eye didn't scream with pain so he kept them off.

A hand grabbed his own and he looked to his left, looking straight into the smiling face of Richie. He hesitated for a moment, before gripping it tightly. It was okay to touch, Eddie thought. He couldn't spread like that.

They watched the movie like that, hands folded together, Richie even being dumb and wrapping his arm around him. Eddie would never ever admit to enjoying the feeling. They never kissed though, which Eddie was grateful for. He didn't know if his heart would’ve been able to handle so much love and gratitude for not just Richie but Bill and all the Losers. 

The movie was fantastic, Eddie never having seen something so amazing on something so big. He felt like the luckiest person in all of the world which made him want to cry.

He didn't deserve any of it. Not the Losers, not Bill not the movies or swimming and most definitely not Richie. But he had it anyways. 

They walked back to their bikes after, contentment hanging between them. He had put the sunglasses back on, and tottered slowly on his bike. “Eh-ehddie, Richie.” Bill said suddenly as they biked slowly to his house.

Both boys turned back slightly, Richie saying, “What's up doc?” 

“Sl-sl-sleepover at m-m-my house o-o-on Saturday. A-all Losers inv-vuh-vited.” He said.

Eddie felt excitement sweep through him again. Saturday was in 2 days, and that was more than a lifetime away for him. He had never been to a sleepover, never invited anyone over for obvious reasons.

But then his brows creased. “How am I gonna sneak out all night?” He wondered aloud, the scarf now hanging loosely around his neck.

Bill simply smiled and said, “We'll cr-cruh-cross th-tha-that bridge w-wuh-when we get t-th-there.” And that was that. 

They biked to Eddie's house silently, Bill now holding his mother up and Richie walking him to the backdoor. Their hands had rejoined but that was that again, nothing more and nothing less.

Once they had reached the backdoor Richie twisted the smaller boy towards him and neither spoke. Eddie removed the scarf and held it in his hands. 

“So how about that movie.” Eddie said finally and Richie kissed him.

It was a sweet, simple thing that both found very enjoyable. Eddie was pleasantly surprised to discover his heart was big enough to accept this new love. They broke apart soon, neither wanting it to become too heavy.

Richie smiled and replied, “It was fantastic, Eds.” 

“I'll see you tomorrow, trashmouth. We can come up with something for Saturday.” 

“You got it, boss.” 

And Richie walked away.


	5. Jaundice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie goes to the sleepover at Bill's house and Sonya Kaspbrak discovers something shocking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was going to wait and make this a bit longer but I promise I'll make it up with a long chapter tomorrow, I just was having all these good sleepover songs on my Pandora and I knew I had to write something. Also, stuff with Sonya Kaspbrak in this too.

There really was no good solution to getting around Eddie's mother. The best they all could do was hope that luck was on their side. After faking a sickness that Thursday, Eddie progressively pretended to sleep more and more till he knew his mother wouldn't wake him if she went in his room.

After that he would stuff pillows and blankets under his comforter, making a vaguely humanoid lump. It would work only if she never woke him. 

“Mom?” He croaked out as she brought dinner for him. 

She raised an eyebrow and wiped sweat from her brow, saying “Yes hunny?”

He hesitated. Sure he had snuck out before, but he had never flat out lied to his mom to get out of the house. It would be his first time, starting now if he went through with this.

“I'm...I'm really tired. I'm gonna go to bed now.” He knew his face must be hot and pink, but hopefully his mom would assume it was due to the illness. 

Her face softened and she simpered out a “Oh hunny. Feel better soon, I left you some medication with your dinner.” She placed a wet kiss on his cheek that made him want to jerk back, but he held still and allowed her to.

“Night mommy.” He said quietly, and turned over. He was clutching the sunglasses, bandages, and scarf under his blanket. After she left, and having heard her heavy footsteps march their way downstairs, he quickly stuffed the pillows and blankets under his comforter and put the disguise on carefully. 

He knew he had done a clumsy job, but Bill had said Bev would be there to distract his mom at 5:30, Richie sneaking to the back door to escort him through the backyards to avoid detection.

Thinking of Richie made his heart pick up a bit and his blush return. He would’ve done a much better job on the disguise, and he would've been witty and charming while he did it. 

He heard a loud humming come from the window and knew that was the signal. Eddie listened carefully for the doorbell and subsequent opening of the door, and when he heard both he snuck downstairs carefully. Listening to the tired voice of his mother, who had been opening the door at around this time for almost a whole month made him feel guilty.

He pushed the feeling down though. If she didn't leave him locked in the attic all the time like some fucking abomination he wouldn't sneak out. 

He crept past her, back still turned, and slowly turned the back doors knob. Someone grabbed it from outside and pulled it open too, Eddie biting down a shriek as he knew it was Richie. Stepping out into the great outdoors he closed the door quickly, not wanting his mom to notice. 

“Hey cutie.” Richie said with a cocky grin, still on his bike. Eddie huffed and crossed his arms, but drew closer to him anyways.

“Hi stupid.” He responded, and Richie laughed.

“Pull down your scarf, c'mon Eds.” He whined, arms outstretched and tugging on the ends of it. With pretend exasperation he did just that and allowed himself to be drawn into the embrace. He felt one hand run up to his hair and ruffle it, before they broke apart, still inches apart. 

It had only happened once before but still Richie was the one to kiss him. It was clumsy, bumpy, a messy show of grade school affection, but it was all Eddie wanted it to be. Richie’s glasses bumped on the curve of his nose.

The breeze curled through him and soothed his eczema, and the world went brighter, a bright that Eddie didn't see as more sense. Richie was that brightness he knew dimly in the back of his subconscious somewhere, the same place where he knew he didn't deserve to be locked inside all day and night. 

They broke apart after a couple moments, and Eddie was afraid the world would dim again. But it didn't, because when Richie grinned so broad at him like that it only intensified.

“Well,” He said, stretching back on the bike and Eddie blinked. Well indeed. 

“Hop on Eds, we're gonna ride double!” Richie cheered, and though he had been gearing up refuse, instead all thoughts left his head and instead he climbed on behind him.

“Now, I'm no Bill and this bike isn't any Silver, so be careful.” Richie warned, and Eddie pulled up the scarf, readjusted himself, and wrapped his arms around the other boy. He felt him tense for a moment, feet pushing the pedals unsteadily, until they shot into his neighbor's lawn.

It was such an odd experience, scarf whipping past him, sunglasses squished up as far as they could go, arms wrapped around the boy. He thought vaguely he might have been laughing and that Richie might be laughing too. 

After passing through three lawns, Richie steered the bike onto the street, jumping the curve, and Eddie thought he might’ve screamed in joy.

“Fun right?!” Richie screamed back at him and he screamed something unintelligible but definitely conveyed his feelings. Very fun indeed. 

As Richie picked up the speed, houses seemed to pass by in blurs, the world turning into some sort of abstract painting. After a few minutes of bleary colours and wind that cut at Eddie's face, they slowed in front of a house. Bill's house, judging by the bikes laid haphazardly on the lawn.

“Our stop, Monsieur Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie said, the start of a Voice peaking through his normal one.

“Beep beep Richie.” He said affectionately, and allowed his hand to be taken by Richie's.

“But seriously Eds, you know to give a fake last name right? People probably know your mom's last name.” He continued, suddenly serious. To be honest, Eddie hadn't thought of that and it was a very good point. People did know his mother's last name. 

“I got this.” He said mockingly, but squeezed the hand holding his own to let him know he really did. They walked like that, up the stairs, up onto the porch, before knocking on the door and waiting. They both had a vague idea that letting adults see their entwined hands was a bad idea.

They heard running in the house, shouts of, “They're here!” And shoving. Finally the door opened Bill stood there, cheeks flushed, hair haphazardly laying everywhere, eyes twinkling. Silence hung between them as they stared at each other, excitement growing. 

“Hi guys.” Bill finally said, no trace of the stutter in his voice, a grin as wide as it could get on his face. 

“Hiyah Big Bill! Let us in!” Richie cried out, grinning and pushing past Bill. He pulled Eddie behind him, their hands having found each others again. In front of Bill it was fine. In front of the Losers they could be fucking anything. They all could. 

“Beh-Ben, St-st-Stan and Mike a-are here.” Bill said, leading them upstairs and into his room. Eddie noticed both Bill and Richie pointedly ignore the first room upstairs and when he glanced into the open doorway he saw a child's room, perfectly preserved, report cards stacked on a table. A shiver ran down his spine, but he ignored it and let himself be dragged into the older boys room. Stan was on Bill's bed, talking excitedly to the boys sat on the floor.

“What's up fuckers!” Richie shouted, a pleased grin on his face. 

“Richie, Eddie! You guys made it!” Mike said happily as they twisted their way to sit on the bed with Stan. Bill stood in the doorway, a pleased expression on his face. Eddie could tell he couldn't wait for Beverly to arrive, for the Losers club to be whole once more. 

“Of course we did, we're not pussies.” Eddie retorted, letting a similarly pleased expression slide into place on his face. No one commented on their hands and if they it wouldn't have been to say anything bad.

Truly, the Losers were just happy as long as the others were happy. After a couple minutes of pleasant conversation, the front door banged with force. Bill ran down to open it, and Eddie felt the mellow tone of the room shift suddenly and abruptly. They were all pumped now, ready to get the real fun started. 

Richie, who was sat right next to Eddie, untwined their hands and casually wrapped his arm around him. Eddie was certain he had somehow worked it out that he enjoyed the feeling.

Stan turned to them, and softly said, “You really like each other, huh?” Eddie felt himself blush, grin splitting his face. He had long since removed the scarf, now draped somewhere on the bed. Richie nodded proudly and pulled him a little closer. 

“Now this party can really get started!” Beverly shrieked as she ran into the room, right into the welcoming arms of her family. Yes, they were her family. They were family, whether romantic or not. But these were not friendships to be forgotten, and Eddie knew it. He had never had friends before but he already knew the difference. There was no way they weren't family.

“Muh-my pah-parents are out.” Bill exclaimed and everyone quieted down, looking at him. “F-for the n-night.” He added, and the room erupted into shrieks. A full night of no adult supervision, just the Losers?

Life was too good to him, and Eddie knew it. He thought briefly of what horrible price he would have to pay but shoved it away. That didn't matter, if he simply got one more moment with them. 

“SNACKS!” Richie shrieked, causing a rousing chorus of “SNACKS, SNACKS, SNACKS!” until Bill relented and moved away from the doorway, causing a stampede down the stairs.

“Get the chocolate Eddie! If you don't Eddie will eat it all!” Richie cried out to him as everyone was ripping through the cupboards. He frantically looked, overwhelmed by the choices. Spotting something with the word chocolate on it, he snatched it up and held it above his head.

Soon everyone's arms were filled, even Bill's who had decided to get into it. Eddie held the box of what were discovered to be chocolate pretzels close to his chest as they all traipsed back upstairs. 

They all flopped on the floor, even Bill, and shoved all their snacks in front of them. They had silently decided to share whatever they grabbed.

There was enough to go around and no one minded sharing. Eddie procured a juice box, a stack of Thin Mints, Goldfish, and some of the chocolate pretzels, whilst Richie helped himself to various candies.

“So.” Ben said, munching on some of the cookies, “I'm voting for A Nightmare on Elm Street. It's cheesy so I won't be too scared.” 

“Noooooo!” Richie moaned, dragging his hands down his face. “The whole point of a sleepover is watching the scariest movies and crying yourself to sleep in fear!”

Eddie laid on his stomach, watching the back and forth with amusement. He didn't care what movie they watched, as long as everyone wanted to watch it.

“Let's take a vote!” Beverly said, breaking up the bickering. 

“All in favour of The Thing, raised your hand.” Richie raised his hand, along with Mike, Bill and Beverly. Eddie raised his hand after seeing Richie do so.

Ben groaned, placing the cookie he had been eating down. "I'm gonna scream.” He said miserably.

Eddie felt a twinge of pity and added, “Don't worry, I've never seen a horror movie. We can scream together!” Everyone laughed, and Eddie felt Richie laid his hands gently on his shoulders and hair. He tried not to shiver too much. 

They popped the vcr in, watching as the static slowly turned to a creeping tone and running people. True to his word, halfway through the movie Eddie did start screaming, hiding his face in Richie's chest, before laughing hysterically with the others.

When the movie was done they popped in another one, Ben's original suggestion, A Nightmare on Elm Street. Eddie did not scream at this one, instead watching with rapt interest. Eddie thought suddenly that he was drunk, not on beer or any alcohol but their friendship. He felt certain everyone else felt the same. 

Eddie felt his eyes drooping towards the end of it though, and noticed that both Mike and Stan had already fallen asleep, conked out on the carpet.

Eddie let his head fall into Richie's lap, absently munching on the pretzels. Richie immediately placed his hands on his hair, petting and playing with it. Eddie felt himself drifting off to the sensation. 

And with that, he proclaimed his first real sleepover a success. 

~~~~~~~~

Sonya Kaspbrak did not think herself a bad parent. She gave her boy more than he needed, and yet still he wanted. Sometimes children had to be punished for that. 

She could admit, she let the rot get too far. She had just been so angry, her darling Eddie sneaking out, disobeying her...she had been angry. But she atoned for those sins with the love she gave the boy, even if he did look at her through one eye now. That was not her fault. 

_That was not your fault._

She stood just outside his door, panting heavily. The stairs always seemed longer than she remembered, lugging trays up here and down. Her boy had been feeling sick lately, and she could not help but fear it was the rot again. She would stop it this time as soon as she noticed, she promised herself that. 

She let out a breathy, “Eddie?” not expecting a reply. He really had looked flushed and tired at dinner.

She pushed the door open quietly, looking inside and spotting his silhouette. She lumbered over to it, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and her entire body turned ice cold. 

This was not Eddie. 

She ripped the comforter off desperately, hoping to see him perhaps sleeping under another blanket but no, there were his pillows and extra blankets, bunched up to look like his shape. Her boy was breaking the rules. Her body went hot, anger coursing through her veins.

That little ungrateful brat! After everything she had done for him, she had sacrificed so much for him, she could've abandoned such a sick child but no she kept him close and protected him and this was the thanks she got. A poorly made fake person, her Eddie out in the world somewhere doing God knows what with God knows who.

She ran down the stairs, as fast as she could and locked both the front and back door. She would know, one way or another, when Eddie came home. Because he would come home. 

And when he did, there would be Hell to pay.


	6. Radiating Fissures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wakes up and gets ready to go back home, Sonya discovers a terrifying new side to her son, and Eddie completely breaks in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a lot longer and more intense than I anticipated. Sometimes you just find that groove and can't stop yourself I guess. 
> 
> I'm sorry if the scene with the cashier makes anyone uncomfortable, I kinda remembered the scene in the new movie where Beverly kinda flirts with the pharmacist and it made me so uncomfortable like in a good way tho like "God this town is fucked up" sorta way so I wanted to include something like that. 
> 
> Sorry if its kinda stupid, I just felt like after everything that had happened to him with his mother, literally the only adult he knew, he would extremely distrustful of most. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Eddie awoke to a pounding headache. It hit him square in the face, and when he attempted to open his eyes he let out a soft shriek and hid his face back in the ground. No one had shut the shade last night, so sunlight was streaming in, a minefield of pain for him. He heard someone next him to groan, and felt their arm wrap a little tighter around his waist, the way you hold a pillow to yourself. 

“Richie.” He hissed, face still pressed into the ground. He bumped his shoulder against the other boy, who groaned and shifted closer. Eddie huffed out in frustration, one hand blindly groping around for the sunglasses. He bumped into the soft flesh of someone next to him and retracted his hand, a soft “Sorry,” leaving him. 

He heard someone else starting to shift around, blearily waking up, and with a groan he knew that they had also awoken to the same headache. Eddie supposed they were all hungover, the drunken feeling he had felt from the Losers last night making way for this. He bumped harder into Richie, whose grip loosened a bit as he rolled more to the side. 

“Eh-Eddie? You u-up?” He heard Bill say, a scratchy just-woke-up quality in his voice. Eddie was suddenly struck with an image of an older Bill, confident, handsome. He stood tall, shoulders broad, smile like gold. Eddie didn't know where he fit into that equation. 

“Yeah, but I don't know where my sunglasses are.” He said helplessly, and he knew they were both remembering the first day he had snuck out. He heard Bill stand up, fumbling around, looking for them. Eddie gently removed Richie's hand from his back and waist, instead draping it right next to him. 

“Aha!” Bill cried out, falling to his knees with a phoomf!, grabbing Eddie's shoulder. He cautiously picked his face up, bandages hanging everywhere, having unrolled long into the night. He held his face, fingers laced tightly in front of his eye. He felt them dip into his socket. Bill pushed them gently over his hands, and Eddie dropped them, the world still adequately dark for him. 

“Huh-hungry?” Bill questioned, and Eddie yawned in response, arching his back. He was, but he knew that he also had a time limit. His mother brought breakfast up for him at approximately 9:30. “I gotta be home by 9:30, but if it's still early, yeah.” He replied. 

“W-we got tuh-time. O-o-only 8.” Bill said, grinning. “I'm guh-gonna wake th-the others.” He said, before nudging Stan with his socked foot. He had fallen asleep propped by the bed, one leg curled up to his chest, head thrown back onto the bed. He groaned loudly, lowering his leg. 

Eddie turned his attention on Richie, who was also slowly waking to reality, head blearily lifted up and scanning the room, glasses crookedly sitting on his face. Even half asleep, he managed to crack that stupid grin and whisper a stupid, “Hey good lookin’.”

Eddie groaned, but allowed himself to be all but dragged into a sleepy hug. The other boy tightly clasped his arms around him, and for a moment he seemed desperate to Eddie, a desperation you feel when you know it is your last chance to feel someone in your arms. He gasped, tensing as the feeling rolled over him. But then the arms relaxed, and he relaxed with them. There was nothing to worry about. 

Everyone woke slowly, the previous events of the night having left them so drained of the vigor that could usually be found bursting from them. Even Stan, who seemed perpetually at ease was now groaning, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, and complaining about an uncomfortable neck. 

“Muh-my par-r-tents are home.” Bill explained as the creeped downstairs as one big jumble, Eddie again allowing his and Richie's hands to meet and embrace. He felt uneasy, a peculiar feeling of dread washing him out. He was okay for now but...who knew about the future. What was their future? What was his future? Was it 

(The leper at that weird deserted house had grinned so wide at him, fluids leaking everywhere, hand waving at him slowly and Eddie couldn't look away even as he stalked forward until the red balloon had drifted so close to his face and then) 

the fate most so terribly diseased found themselves in, homeless and just waiting to die? He didn't know why such unnerving thoughts had gripped him, when he was clearly so fine. 

Once they had sufficiently slunk down the stairs quiet enough for Bill, they raided the cupboards and fridge again, this time searching for the cereals and granola bars, milk and yogurts. Eddie realised his teeth had taken on the slightly fuzzy feeling when you haven't brushed them for a day. He licked them once, grossed out by the odd sensation, before pouring milk into his bowl of Cheerios as it was passed around. They ate right there, on the kitchen floor, hands roving and grabbing whatever suited their taste. 

“Nobody changed into pajamas last night.” Mike said amused, and everyone looked down at their crumpled clothing. It was true, Eddie wearing a t shirt that had an imprint of Wile E Coyote on it, jogging shorts sticking unpleasantly to his thighs with old sweat. 

“Did anyone even bring pajamas?” Richie retorted, and the silence said it all. It had been a last minute kind of sleepover, even though everyone had been invited a few days before. Why worry about clothes when you can worry about which movie is going to make you cry? Eddie sighed in contentment, the sudden fear that had overtaken him moments earlier all but forgotten. His dominant hand, the right, was being held by Richie with his left, which left them both awkwardly eating with their non-dominant hand. 

They all ate in quiet, simply enjoying the company the others provided them with. Once finished, they quietly piled the bowls and cups into the sink, Bill complaining that he would be the one to wash all of them. Eddie felt bad, but not bad enough to volunteer to help. He had to be getting home. 

“I'm gonna bring Eddie home.” Richie announced, pulling him towards the front door. “Bye Eddie, bye Richie!” Beverly cried out, which led to everyone forgetting to be quiet, saying their goodbyes, Bill desperately saying “Guh-guys ple-please!” 

Once outside, Richie pulled Eddie down the stairs but stopped him before the bikes. “What, trashmouth?” Eddie asked, and Richie just smiled, not that stupid cocky grin he usually gave, but a sweet grin that made Eddie shut down any sarcastic remark he had been thinking of. He pulled a marker out of his shorts pocket, which he must've swiped at Bill's the night before. 

“Hold your arm out, Eds.” He ordered. Eddie did so, suspiciously. If he wrote anything big on his arm, he had no doubt his mom would notice. Thankfully Richie seemed to understand this too, instead writing neatly on the inside of his wrist. Once done he allowed Eddie to look. 

It was a number, a number that Eddie realised must be his number. At the end was a heart, not written sarcastically but out of pure affection. He looked up and caught Richie staring back down. “In case you ever really need it.” He said evenly, and Eddie knew that he must've had that same awful, cold feeling he had experienced on the stairs. 

This time Eddie was the one who reached up, hesitantly looking into the tallers boys eyes before gently placing his mouth on his. They still hadn't gotten the hang of it yet, but Richie experimentally placed a hand on the small of his back, and Eddie decided he liked that. Their kisses had never stretched passed the 10 second mark, and they weren't keen to break that rule just yet, so they quickly broke apart. 

“Still really good, Eds.” Richie said happily, leaning down and picking the bike up. Eddie felt the blush he was slowly becoming accustomed to spread across his face as he hopped on the bike after the taller boy, hiding his face in his back as they started going. 

The ride back was not nearly the exhilarating trip it had been riding away, but it was still nice. Richie went slower this time, allowing Eddie to take in the sights and smells and the wind. 

Once they had arrived at his house, Eddie got off the shaky bike and waited by it for a second. His stomach was dropping deeper and deeper, the bad feeling coming back ten-fold. He knew it came back for Richie too, a glazed looming over his face.

“Call me if anything happens, okay Eddie? And I mean anything.” He said suddenly, turning his face to him. Eddie felt icy, like someone had just sprayed him with freezing water. He didn't answer, instead staring at his house. 

“Eddie, promise me.” Richie said insistently, one hand closed around his wrist. He didn't want to promise to, wanted to tell him he could take care of himself and that he didn't need to be protected, but instead when he opened his mouth he said, “Okay. I'll call if anything happens.” 

Richie relaxed, released his wrist and smiled. “Bye Eddie Spaghetti. See you tomorrow!” He said, pedaling away slowly. “Bye Richie!” He called after him, watching the boy wheel himself down the street, before turning and disappearing behind the curve. 

Eddie stood there for a moment, dreading the quiet sneaking to the back of the house and crawling inside. He should have asked Richie to stay. Should've begged him to knock on the door, help him, or even crazier, hide him away to never go back to the wooden cage he shuffled back into every night. 

Instead he walked himself to the back door, and stood there for a moment, straining his ears. When he heard no noise he turned the doorknob slowly, and to his horror someone on the other side flung the door open. He screamed and went to run the other way, before a hand shot out and grabbed his shirt very tightly by the back of the neck. 

“LET ME GO!” He screamed, the hand dragging him. He thrashed around, hitting around wildly before he made contact with a large, doughy arm. He was let go instantly, slamming into a wall. 

His mother howled in pain and slammed the door, breathing heavily. She turned to him, expression the angriest Eddie had ever seen it, and raised a hand as if to hit him. He screamed again, because while physical abuse was not a major part of his life it had happened before and he was not looking forward to reliving it. 

The hand came down harshly and he turned at the last second, it making direct contact with his forearm. It burned, even more than his eczema did, and he let out the breath he had been holding in with enough force to crumple himself. He felt dizzy and panicked, not totally understanding what was going on. 

“We,” his mother panted out, “really must discuss some things.”

~~~~~~~~~  
She had been so angry she had done The Really Bad Thing. 

It had happened a few times before, hand going up and slamming down on some soft fleshy part of the boys’ body. She almost always instantly regretted it, the way Eddie would screw his eyes tight, mouth trembling down as he desperately held in the sobs wracking his body. This time, she felt vindicated and even angrier. 

The boy had spent all night out God knows where and expects her to allow him inside with no punishment? Worse, he fought back, one hand connecting with her arm with surprising force for such a small boy. He stood, supported by the wall now, expression somewhere between terror and outrage. 

“Upstairs. Now.” She hissed, reaching over and digging her nails into the boys wrist. He went with little resistance, being pushed up the stairs that led up to his room. Her mind raced, thinking of all the questions to ask, all the ways she could somehow bend the boy to her will, a way to break his will just enough. 

He stopped abruptly outside of the door, stock still and tense. “Open the door now, Eddie.” She yelled, ready to push the boy deeper into the hallway if he disobeyed. 

But then he turned around, fierce expression on his face, and uttered a clipped, “No.” She felt a shot of some long ago unease deep inside of her, but ignored it. 

“No?” She repeated, angry heat rising. She wanted to rip the sunglasses off of his face, tear the bandages away, scream at him, hurt him. He had disobeyed her. 

Instead of backing down, like she expected, he stuck his chin in the air, stood his ground and shouted out, “NO!” 

Sonya was suddenly struck by an intense fear that had not reared its head since her girlhood, a stark fear that had held her stock and silent whilst kneeling on a pew. Her eyes had lifted to the cross and she had been a scared little girl, the gaze of the statue of Jesus boring into her. She feared his wrath, the wrath of an immortal being who would strike down anyone. So she had held still and silent. 

That was what her boy looked like to her now, hair mussed, eye wide and intense behind the sunglasses, jaw tightened. His clothing, wrinkled, were not just a t shirt and shorts now, but the holy garb of some vengeful God, staring down an unbeliever. How dare you, his whole being said with a force she didn't know he could muster, defy my way. Soon he would strike down where she stood, steps below him as she went to lock him in his room, strike the door down with his force, strike her down, strike this house down and move on. 

He was a vengeful God, and he was angry with her. 

But his face soon crumpled, and he was Eddie Kaspbrak again, scared little boy who feared the sun and the stench of rot, not this God christened Edward who coldly strode over anyone and everyone in his way. She relaxed and hefted herself up another stair, backing him more into the room. 

“You disobeyed me, you brat.” She snarled, spittle flying. He flinched, and the way he didn't give any more protest gave her a sick sort of satisfaction. She wanted to crush him in that moment, break him so completely he would never even imagine what the breeze felt on his bare skin again. If she could do that he would never leave, wouldn't ever leave this house and his room until she died, perhaps even when she did die, slowly starving in his room as he waited for mother dearest to make the trip up to his room. 

“Eddie Kaspbrak, if you do not march yourself into that bedroom right now there will be more than Hell to pay for it.” She threatened, expecting him to do just that. He still held his ground though, seeming to be steeling himself for something. 

“You mean my prison? I'm sick of living in an attic like some mental case!” He yelled, somewhere between defiant Eddie and enraged Edward. Sonya paused. She had not expected this level of rebellion, not with the bright pink mark on his skin still in stark contrast to the rest of his untouched skin (where he wasn't covered in those ugly red splotches of cracked skin,). 

“Obey me right now! I am your mother, Eddie!” She yelled back at him, reeling her hand back to hit him again, maybe even hit him more than twice. 

“AND I'M YOUR SON, NOT SOME MONSTER!” He screamed back at her, and Sonya watched with a sort of detached horror as his arms shot out, pushing her backwards. She felt her back connect with the stairs, felt the pain as she rolled back, body slamming into the narrow walls, felt something in her foot snap as it caught a stair awkwardly. 

She did not, however, focus on anything but the Almighty Edward striding down the stairs to her, a calm expression on his face. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glanced impassively at her, and made to walk out of the closet. 

We're both in shock, she realised. Both of us strangely calm and content. Yes, I could lay on this closet floor all day and he could do whatever the Hell he wanted. 

She watched him close the closet door on her and did not utter a sound. 

~~~~~~~~

Eddie did not do anything till later that evening. He made himself lunch at 12, dinner at 5, sitting on the kitchen floor as he had that morning at Bill's house. That morning felt ages ago, the happiness all but a distant taste in his mouth. 

His mother had started screaming, bellowing at him to get back in there and help her around 4, much sooner than Eddie himself had snapped out of his haze. He remained lying down on the kitchen floor. He had no plans, nothing to do. 

He didn't know what he should do. The sun was down now, so he removed the sunglasses, lying on his back now. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, as he had turned off all the lights first thing when he made his way out of the closet room. 

When his mother finally got herself up and pushed the closet door open, he was dimly horrified to find himself still lying on the kitchen floor. 

But he wasn't in control of his body anymore, a new, harsh Eddie was. This new Eddie was ready to break necks, stab, kill, steal. Anything. This new Eddie was cruel and enjoyed his cruelties. 

When his mother limped out of the closet, the crunch of her broken foot reverberating throughout the house, new Eddie found it in himself to stand up and walk silently to the front door. Eddie was still there too, screaming somewhere deep within himself, but he couldn't come back. Not right then. New Eddie was all that kept him from breaking down completely, becoming a screaming, crying, incoherent mess. New Eddie was needed. 

He opened the front door when his mother placed one hand on his shoulder. 

“Eddie, stay inside. Listen to me now. Don't you dare go!” She shrieked, but her grip was loose and he shrugged it off easily. 

“Don't worry mommy, I'll be careful. No fresh cut grass, I understand.” New Eddie said solemnly, before closing the door on the screaming lady. 

He picked his bike up with involuntary movements, and old Eddie took a moment to thank whatever God protected broken boys that the bandages wrapped around his face were still there, him having fixed them lying on the kitchen floor. He found he actually could do them just as well as Richie, perhaps even better. 

Richie. New Eddie snapped back in place, old Eddie left to scream and cry some more, having a complete mental breakdown. He read the number carefully stenciled on the inside of his wrist and decided that he had to call him. 

He said to call if anything happened, and although he wasn't sure, he felt as though this qualified. 

Peddling down the darkened roads, he scanned every now and then for a payphone. How he would make the call, he didn't know. This new Eddie got what he wanted, one way or another though. 

He finally spotted one, outside a small shop. He figured he would find a way to beg some change out of the cashier. Seeing the bright lights inside, he placed the sunglasses on his face. Parking his bike outside, he walked inside confidently even though his whole being felt like one big earthquake. Definitely at least a 7.5 on the Richter scale, he thought drily. 

A man was seated behind a desk, and Eddie detected some vaguely predatory interest in him coming from the man. 

Although he was terrified, he was now a predator too, in a different sense. So he strode up confidently, a smile on his face. 

“Hiyah sir.” He said sweetly, leaning over the counter. His hands were tucked under his chin, and he willed his eye a bit wider. As uncomfortable as he was, he needed to call Richie. He would do anything for Richie. 

The man arched an eyebrow, a wolfish smile coming over his face. “What can I do for you, boy?” He said, leaning down a little to see his face better. 

Eddie faltered on the inside, ears ringing so terribly he had trouble processing what was happening. But his tongue was quicker, saying, “You got any change?” 

The man's smile went wider, and Eddie had to physically force himself to hold still. He was a wolf too now, and they were known to dabble in some cannibalism, so he either ate this guy or he ate him. 

“And what would you do with this change?” The wolf asked, true nature hidden by the face sparkling with fake trustworthiness. Eddie pretended to consider it, exaggerating his tiny movements. He knew he appeared vulnerable.  
“Penny candy.” He murmured, looking right in the eyes of this beast. I will tear you to shreds, he thought dimly. He would tear anyone apart, anyone but the Losers. He would be the wolf they needed, the one to guard the perimeters and warn others not to get too close. 

“Will 4 cents do for now?” He teased, pulling the money out slowly. He flashed a wide grin that showed all his oddly spaced teeth at the man and held his hand out. 

The man slowly counted the money and placed it in his waiting hand, lingering on the smooth feeling of the boys’ skin. Eddie felt gross, felt like the hand that was made to be held by Richie was being dirtied. He felt enraged but in a way that made his heart break. What was he doing, flirting with some random man for change? 

“How about a lollipop to go with that?” The man said quickly, one eye slinking down to wink at him. Eddie frowned, face turning hot. The man acted as if he didn't understand the innuendo, or worse, would be okay with it. He was not. 

“I don't want a fucking lollipop.” He barked at the man, abruptly turning and walking out of the store, leaving the shocked man inside. 

He strode quickly to the telephone booth, shoved the change inside and dialled the number still written on his wrist carefully. It rang a few times before someone picked up, a women who sounded tired.

“Hello, Tozier residence.” She said into Eddie's ear. He swallowed thickly and put on his happiest sounding voice. Hell, if he could get change out of a wolf, he could get Richie's mom to hand the phone to him. 

“Hi Mrs Tozier, I'm one of Richie's friends. I know it's late, but I was wondering if I could quickly talk to him? I think he still has one of my comic books.” He forced a laugh after saying that. 

“Oh yes, sure.” He heard as she yelled out, “Richie! A friend!” 

A clattering was heard through the phone, small voices asking questions before he was on the phone, a casual, “Yello?” coming to Eddie. 

He burst into tears. 

“What? Who is this? Eddie?!” Richie whispered, his voice staticky. 

“Richie, please help me I begged change off of some creepy guy and he touched my hand and tried to give me a lollipop please I'm scared-” He gasped, tears rolling down his cheek. 

“Eddie, Eddie calm down. I'm- I'm gonna come get you. Where are you? My mom said that the call came from a payphone.” His voice was gentle and concerned, making Eddie sob harder again. New Eddie was gone now, the wolf who had really only protected himself now fading back into his subconscious now that no adults were near. Now that Richie was there, at least his voice. 

“In front of some store.” He hiccuped, glancing back at the store. A new wave of fear rolled over him as he imagined the man coming out, snarling, drooling, dragging him, back inside. 

“Let me call the others okay? We'll find you, it's only 9. We'll work something out and you can tell me what happened okay? Eds?” The voice was more frantic now, perhaps sensing the fresh wave of tears that shook Eddie's thin body. 

“Yeah, yeah. Please, just hurry. I'm so scared!” He cried out, not caring how pathetic or needy he sounded. 

“Don't worry Eddie Spaghetti, I'm gonna get going right now, okay? Your money is gonna run out soon, so I'm gonna hang up.” The voice sounded further away, as if he was holding the phone in the crook of his neck. 

“Oka-” the phone cut out as he began to say that, though it was unclear if the money had run out or Richie had hung up. 

Eddie put the phone back on its hooks, and exited the phone booth. 

He resolved to wait just outside the store, where the cashier was staring at him harder now. Eddie turned around, looked through the glass, and flipped him off, a gesture he had seen the rest of the Losers, especially Beverly, use on adults before. 

He felt a bit of satisfaction in himself when the man reddened and looked away.


	7. Congenital Syphilis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has an impromptu sleep over, and Richie digs for information at the doctor's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start a new story soon, still in the It fandom but set during WW2 in Germany. It's going to focus on the mass child euthanasia that occured before and during WW2, particularly of those they considered 'severely disabled'. Keep in mind that could be anything, as long as it kept these children out of their hair, basically. It'll focus on Bill and Eddie mainly, and the sanitarium where they would send these children. 
> 
> I mostly wanted to tell everyone this because I don't want anyone to be worried that I'll stop caring about this story. Trust me, this is still the main story, 100%. Chapters for this will be written and prewritten before I even consider starting a chapter on that one!! I love this too much to ever do that to anyone. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Eddie didn't know if he was relieved or terrified when he saw the two boys biking furiously to him. He had been standing outside for what seemed like forever, and he could sense the way the cashier was working his courage up to come out and confront him. Like an animal confronting his meal. New Eddie would surely protect himself, he was certain of that, but at the moment that boy was gone. He was just plain old scared Eddie with bad eczema and holes in his body. 

“Hi.” He breathed out when they got closer, being close enough to now see that it was Bill and Richie. Both were dressed haphazardly, Bill wearing jean shorts with an obvious pajama shirt, Richie the inverse. That made him feel strangely happy, being able to see that they cared enough to not even get fully dressed. 

Both boys dismounted quickly and ran up to him. “Eh-eh-Eddie, whu-what's wrong?” Bill asked hurriedly, ushering him out of view from the store. Richie was quieter, simply slipping his hand into his. 

“My mom,” Eddie said thickly, “She knew I was gone.” They sat in the wet grass, full moon giving them the light required to read each others faces. They listened to his story silently, allowing him to pause for a breath or two. He told them about pushing his mom down the stairs, the man in the store, waiting for them. He told them everything, and by the end of it he was in tears, which trickled down his face before landing on the already wet grass. Richie squeezed his hand tight and put a hand on his back. 

After a long pause where they simply listened to the sounds in the air around them, Richie spoke up. “You can't go back to her.” He said, a finality in his voice that made Eddie shiver. Because it was true, and he knew it. If he ever went back he would spend the rest of his life in an attic, doing what she said when she said it. 

“Where do I go?” He asked them, and tried hard not to cry again. He had cried enough for one night, but as hard as he tried to conjure him, the brave boy who had walked confidently into the store and got his way had vanished. 

The night was silent again as all three weighed the options. A hospital maybe? A homeless shelter? Or worse, maybe Bill and Richie would bike off without him, realising he was simply not worth the trouble? Because he wasn't. He was some no name boy who took his friends for granted and called them crying when the slightest thing went wrong. 

“Yuh-you should cuh-cuh-c-” Bill spat out, face turning a red even Eddie could see with the faint light of the moon. But he and Richie still sat there silently, allowing him to speak. “come to m-my house.” He finally said, and Eddie felt his heart sink. If he went with Bill, it would be a turning point and he knew it. No more home to return to, endlessly bouncing between friends homes, another child lost in the wind. 

But, at least he wouldn't be controlled. Every aspect of his life had been before, from what he read and watched to when he fucking went outside. Eddie would rather die right then and there than allow himself to be dominated by that again. 

“Yeah, that's a good idea. I would say come over to mine but my mom…” Richie trailed off and Eddie felt ashamed, instantly realising his mother must've been drunk. His throat was dry though, and he couldn't force an apology out of his throat. Instead he shifted closer to Richie and squeezed his hand tight. When he squeezed back, Eddie knew it was okay. They were okay. He was okay. 

“Yuh-you know how t-to climb a tr-tree?” Bill asked, a small smile on his face. Despite himself, Eddie felt himself smile back and reply, “Of course I do.” 

“Good.” He said mysteriously, before standing up and getting on Silver. He biked off suddenly, leaving Eddie startled. Was he to find his house all by himself? Yes, he had been there just that morning but to him that felt like a lifetime ago. He did not know if he could even remember what Bill's room looked like, hardly the way there. All was vague until he he was grabbed by his mother. 

But when he glanced at Richie, he knew everything would be okay. Maybe Eddie had taken it for granted when he had given him his number at first, but not anymore. Richie had been dead serious when he told Eddie that he would take care of him. 

But instead of saying anything like that, he simply turned to Richie and murmured, “I'm sorry.” 

“No. Don't you dare say that, you idiot. I told you to call me and you did. I'm glad.” He responded immediately, pulling the smaller boy into a tight hug. Eddie let go of the tears he had been holding in, sobbing and shaking, dampening his collar. 

“I'm so scared, Richie. I felt...I felt like I was someone else.” He cried, his voice going higher. Richie tightened his hold on him, one hand making its way back and forth through his hair. 

“It's okay to be scared. I'm scared. Bill's scared. You probably just needed to be strong so your body got that for you.” Richie said uncertainly. Eddie knew the boy wasn't sure, didn’t know what happened when you had been pushed so hard that you couldn't be yourself anymore without breaking down. 

“I'm gonna bring you to Bill's house for tonight, okay? I have a doctor appointment tomorrow, but I'll be out in the afternoon. We can...come up with something then.” He said, clumsily breaking the hug. Eddie gulped and nodded, ready for the night to be over. Ready for this part of his life to be over. 

Richie got onto the bike, and without any prompting Eddie got on after him, wrapping his arms around the other boys waist. They went slowly, a somber mood hanging overhead them. 

Eddie felt like he was being biked to his own funeral, a corpse hanging on the back. And it some way he was, maybe not a physical corpse but some part of him had died and been buried in the grass outside of that store. He hoped it wasn't anything vital, but if it was he was grateful both Bill and Richie had managed to make it to the funeral. 

Once they made it to Bill's house, Eddie realised why he had asked him if he could climb a tree. And old oak was directly outside of a window, and Eddie knew with certainty that Bill's room was on the second floor. 

“And here I thought he just wanted to know for fun.” He muttered, the small joke all he could think. 

Richie laughed quietly up front, flashing back for just a second to smile at him. “Maybe later, Eddie Spaghetti.” He teased. 

They dismounted quickly, walking as quietly as possible over to the sturdy tree. Eddie put one foot experimentally, reaching up to grab a branch. He felt satisfied when he could grab it and haul himself up. 

“Eddie.” Richie called below him. “Mmm?” He responded, more focused on finding his next foothold. He grinned and pulled himself higher when he found it. 

“I love you.” 

Eddie's head whiplashed back, staring at the boy on the lawn. His face was earnest, blushing a bit. He truly did love Eddie, a thought that made him slightly nauseous. Not because he didn't want Richie to love him, but because he was terrified he wasn't enough for the other boy. 

It was middle school, going into high school as freshmen love. Puppy dog love. Eddie didn't know if that was true love. Besides, he had seen how love hurt, his mother and even the cashier proving that to him. Their love had been twisted, both trying to domineer him. 

“I love you too.” He called back anyways, because it was true. And he would never dominate Richie the way adults had attempted. And Richie would never do anything like that to him. 

It was adults who were truly evil, Eddie decided. 

He must've been happy with that reply, because he waved, turned, and picked his bike up. Eddie concentrated on climbing the steep tree, before making his way to the window. He knocked on it uncertainly. 

Almost immediately Bill opened it, a finger to his lips. Eddie nodded, quietly shuffling closer to the window, hand out for Bill to grip and haul him in with. 

Once he was inside, he collapsed onto the floor, the same floor just the night before he had fallen asleep on. He had been a different person just a day before. Eddie covered his face with his hands, thankful the room was dark. Bill uncertainly sat on his bed, allowing Eddie to attempt to calm himself down. 

“I haven't brushed my teeth in a while.” He said, the thought having sprung into his head. It was true, the last time he had brushed his teeth had been the morning before. His teeth still had that odd fuzzy feeling to them. 

Bill shifted on the bed and gently said, “Yuh-you can br-brush them he-he-here if yuh-you want.” 

Eddie considered it, and threw the idea out. Maybe before he had cared, but now he was simply too tired to worry. “No, it's okay. But do you think I could borrow some new clothes?” He asked instead, still disliking the crumpled feeling of his own. Plus, he had sweat in them.

Bill nodded, shuffling around his room slowly and getting out some new pajamas, a full set for Eddie and pants for himself. “I'll ch-ch-change in t-the bathr-r-room.” He said, walking out and closing the door behind him. 

Without even putting them on, Eddie knew they would dwarf him. Bill was tall and strong for his age, already making himself a formidable foe. 

(Against what? Eddie thought and he knew what, a leper who had rotted before his eyes and offered him a balloon and god just work legs WORK!) 

Eddie, by comparison, was small and thin, the results of staying inside for 23 hours a day usually, mostly 24. He knew he looked much younger than he actually was, blending in better with 10 year olds than the 13 and 14 year old friends he had. Hell, he himself was one of the older ones at 14. Only one was still 13, Ben, who had his birthday very soon. 

But while Bill might be tall and strong, he was no predator. He was more like a stag, willing to protect if needed but not required. Eddie was the hidden one, ready to attack first and tear anyone apart. He had always thought of himself as one who needed protecting, but standing there in Bill's room, in Bill's pajamas, he wondered if others were simply being protected by him. He felt a bit like a wolf who had tricked the herd into taking him in, into trusting him. Here he was in his preys den and he could kill him. 

Horrified, Eddie immediately slammed those thoughts into a vault in his mind and quickly locked it. Bill and the Losers were his best friends, and to even dare think something so horrible...he felt more lost than ever. 

Bill entered, looking confident and calm in pajamas so Eddie decided to not even bring it up. Bill would laugh softly, tell him they all thought odd thoughts and forget it. He wouldn't know how deep this seemed to run in Eddie's veins, inherited from a mother who dominated him and a world that feared him. 

“S-s-s…” Bill faltered for a second, face reddening again. “Sleepy?” He finally asked, sitting down on the bed. Eddie nodded because it was true, although what he was sleepy of was an entirely different question. 

Bill awkwardly patted the bed, indicating it would be okay for both to sleep in the bed. He rolled over to the far side, scrunched up by the wall and allowed Eddie to climb in. They turned away from each other, and Eddie felt oddly scared. He was worried he would get Bill into trouble. He was worried he was trouble. 

They faced away from each other for a bit, before Eddie felt Bill turn to him and instinctively he did too. They stared at each other for a moment, before Bill said, “W-will y-you sleep okay?” 

Eddie just stared back at him and shook his head. He didn't think he would ever sleep well again, maybe never had slept well. He had always been busy being scared or uncomfortable to sleep peacefully, and something told him he wasn't feeling calm or comfortable at the moment. 

Bill hesitated, looked at him and wrapped and arm over the smaller boy, pulling him closer. It wasn't the way Richie had held him close the night before, shared touch jolting both. This was the comforting embrace of your dad or older brother, calming you through a thunderstorm. Made to rock you and shush you and love you. For forehead kisses and tickle fights and whispers about mundane things. 

“Thanks, Big Bill.” Eddie said, his throat dry, face buried in the other boys neck and chest. Right where you might place your younger sibling, still crying from a nightmare. You rub their back and whisper about how it was just a nightmare and that they are okay. You put your arms around them and hug them tight, conveying how much you love them. 

Bill loves him. 

Bill nods, hugging him a little tighter. As Eddie drifts off, comforted and feeling more safe than he had in a long time, he could've sworn he heard Bill say something strange. 

“Guh-goodnight Guh-Georgie.” 

 

~~~~ 

 

The doctor had been very patient with Richie, but that was something he was not. He was anxious, bursting with energy. He had to get to Eddie, comfort him, help him, anything. Last night he had seemed a million miles away, face blank but voice choked with emotion. 

The only thing keeping him from running out was the fact that Bill was looking after his...boyfriend? Were they boyfriends? They had kissed a couple of times, and held hands, but Richie didn't know if that dictated that they were boyfriends. He had the acute sense that if he asked anyone, they would not be very welcoming. He knew what had happened to Adrian Mellon, had heard what Henry Bowers had called him. 

“Queer,” he had said, pronouncing it Kweer. Richie knew that wasn't a good thing to be, but he also knew it was what he was. What Eddie must be too, then. So he stayed quiet, not just for his sake but Eddie's too. 

But anyways, that was all keeping him from running out. That and curiosity. Although he had promised himself not to ask Eddie anymore questions about what happened to him, that didn't mean he wasn't curious. He just didn't want to see him cry again. 

“Hey doc, I got a question.” He said, swinging his legs on the table. The doctor was writing his records down in a sheet of paper, and Richie knew he had written about the ‘behavioral issues’ again. Because he always did. 

The doctor turned to him, small smile and asked, “What is it, Richard?” He felt a stab of annoyance at the use of his full name but brushed it off and continued forward. 

“So, there's this boy I know who's obviously has something, but I don't know what. He has weird notched teeth, like someone took a spoon and dug some out, leavin’ an upside U in his teeth.” 

“Hutchinson teeth,” the doctor muttered absently, only half listening. Richie felt annoyed again but continued. 

“Plus his...eyes are really sensitive to light,” He said carefully, deciding to exclude the fact he had some rotted parts. Eddie himself had said the rot came after. 

The doctor fully turned to him now, more interested. “Lemme ask this, is his nose smallish? You see how I have a fairly long bridge?” He asked, pointing to his nose. Richie nodded. “Is his nose small, centered on his face? His eyes would be wide too, wider than you would expect.”

Richie considered it for a moment, thinking of Eddie. He did have a pretty small nose, cute and center like the doctor said. And the first thing he had noticed about Eddie was his wide eye. 

“Yeah doc, he does. What does that mean?” He asked curiously. The doctor nodded, turning away again. 

“Congenital syphilis, Richie. Don't make fun of him for the physical features kid, he can't help that. Just be glad penicillin is a thing.” He was uninterested again, writing again. 

Richie, frustrated, snapped out, “What even is penicillin?” The doctor sighed, wrote something down presumably about his attitude and turned back towards him. 

“Penicillin is what you give someone with syphilis. To put it simply, it flushes their systems of it before necrosis can set in. That would rot parts of their skin away, causing immense pain.” He explained carefully and Richie felt himself go cold. But Eddie had rotted. Why hadn't he gotten this stuff? Maybe he forgot to take it? 

“If they stop taking it, do they start rotting?” He asked quickly. He would get to the bottom of his obsession with this, and soon. 

The doctor looked at him strangely, the way you look at a stupid child or ignorant adult. 

“Richie, you only give someone penicillin once. If he has congenital syphilis, he got it as soon as he was born. If not, he would have necrosis by now.”


	8. Gangrenous Necrosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory stolen from him revists Eddie in an unexpected place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter took me a little while due to having a hard time getting into the groove but I think its okay now!! Also I left an end note explaining some more stuff for after this chapter bc I realised some issues I had created for myself. Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

He woke in arms encircling him, gentle but strong at the same time. They remind him of what love should be, something that is easy to fall in and hard to forget. It is not pain and suffering when it is with other children. Only adults bring that for him, present it on a silver platter and force feed it to him. 

Eddie opened his eye and didn't struggle. The feeling was nice and warm, better than he had felt in a long time. Bill had remembered to close the curtains, fastening them with a tight bow to ensure only the dimmest of light would permeate the room. 

The arms around him were soft still, not the way Richie had hugged him tightly, as if he was worried Eddie would just slip out and leave him without a trace. Which, for the record, he would never do. In fact, he knew that it was really him who was paranoid about people leaving him alone, evidenced by the way he would only rest easily when someone was holding him. It was a security blanket, being able to know whether they were gone or not. 

Bill woke shortly, blinking slowly and pulling him closer. He smiled sleepily at Eddie, still in the way that reminded him of an older brother. The storm, the nightmare, whatever had bothered him the other night was all but forgotten under the watchful gaze of his protector. 

“G’morning.” Eddie said, face still pushed into his neck. It was warm and he never wanted to leave, just exist as some entity that was held by watchful guardians with arms around him. Bill hummed back, before his eyes widened. 

“Muh-muh-my parents w-wake m-me up at 9!” He said desperately, looking at the clock. Eddie pushed himself up, arms and warm places forgotten. The clock read 8:55. 

“Where do I go?” He whispered frantically, looking around the room. It had few hiding places, except for…

“C-c-closet.” Bill said simply pointing to it. Eddie felt his heart sink, something in him vaguely threatened by it. But there was no way he would allow Bill to get in trouble, so he dashed out of the bed, threw the closet open and looked back at him uncertainly. 

Bill was laying down again, eyes watching him. He nodded silently before cocking his head at the door, where faint footsteps could be heard. Swallowing hardly, Eddie closed the closet door as silently as possible. 

He crouched quietly in the dark room, back up against the wall. His breath came out fast and hard, so he held up hands, covering his mouth and 

(Duct tape over his mouth and he couldn't scream as the room before him expanded until he was in space) 

he dropped them shocked. A memory, one he didn't remember had played over in his head. Duct tape and a closet. It was growing 

(unbearably hot in his veins as it coursed a pattern of death and despair in him a grim march to expand its territory) 

hot. So hot, he felt himself start to sweat and shiver at the same time, the way he had once felt space and narrow walls at the same time but where had he felt that? 

God, it really was growing so fucking unbearably

~~~~~~~~~~

Hot. Unbearably hot for a autumn night, and with the air inside the car having been trapped in for a very long time it was even hotter. Eddie hadn't even been aware his mother could drive, in fact he still wasn't sure. She gripped the wheel tightly, movements uncertain as they drove. He was 10 years old and in the car for the first time. 

His mother was silent through the drive, only momentarily glancing back at Eddie. It made him frightened, the silence which was so usually filled by chatter or the sound of the tv now on mute for some reason. He was silent too, not wanting to anger her. 

Once the car had stopped and his mother opened the car door for him, Eddie stumbled out and surveyed the surroundings. A dark house stood in front of him, lights off and seeming to hold its breath. Usually he was thankful for the darkness, but this wasn't the softness he grew up with. Yes, his dark might be tinged with sadness and longing, but this house stank of fear and anger. Of horror. 

His mother knocked on the door and dragged him with her, mouth a tight line. Eddie felt his heart sink, face falling. He had been bad alright, slinking out at night to play outside but the neighbours had gotten such a magnificent swing that he hadn't been able to stop himself. 

He wondered if his punishment waited just inside the threatening house. 

A man cracked the door open a little, bulging eyes darting around quickly. Eddie took an instinctive step back, terrified. He looked like the crazy people he had seen on the TV, one particular image from Psycho coming to mind. But his mother held firm, face impassive. Her grip bruised onto his frail arm. 

The mans’ eyes found him, nodding once he studied him. “Kaspbrak?” He grasped, opening the door a little more. His mother seemed shaken for a moment, even teary, ready to turn around ignore the strange man. Eddie desperately hoped she would. 

Instead her face hardened and nodded back at the man, who finally opened the door all the way and ushered them in. The inside was rank smelling and dirty, broken glass carelessly scattered everywhere. Eddie wished he had had time to put his shoes when his mother hauled him into the car. 

“General anesthesia is fuckin’ hard to get, so sorry bout that. But I do still got some of that shit that makes recent memories fuzzy, don't worry lady.” The man was saying, leading them deeper into the house. Eddie suddenly felt the fear that had gripped him swallow him whole. Something very bad was going to happen, probably to him and his mother had arranged it. He was frozen though, years of being mothers angel imprinted on his every footstep. 

“The kid gonna scream?” The man suddenly asked, stopping in front of a closed door. His mother glanced at him, eyes cutting Eddie like diamonds. You will not, she said without words. He obeyed immediately, back hunching and eyes towards the ground. I will not, he agreed. 

“No.” She responded curtly, and the man rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He must have sensed she was not one to defy, just as Eddie had his whole life. He was just stupid enough to defy her once, and look where that landed him. Some disheveled house with some man, ready to do whatever he and Sonya had discussed before. 

Because this wasn't a first meeting, Eddie realised. They knew each other, had discussed something before. Most likely about him. Eddie focused his attention on the room whose door had just been opened, and he forgot the promise not to scream. His mouth was open, thin piercing cry leaving it. 

Once upon a time this house would have cost a fair bit of money, the bedroom big with a closet and windows. Now the windows were broken, room trashed. A gurney had replaced where a bed might have once been, handcuffs connected to the sides, abstract bondage. Made to stop someone from escaping, Eddie realised. 

The cry was stopped by the man, who whipped around and backhanded him faster than he had ever moved. Eddie, stunned, closed his mouth to focus on the shooting pain on his cheek. It stung, bringing sharp tears to his eyes. His mother did not comfort him, instead sighing. 

“You told me the fuckin’ kid wouldn't cry, dumb bitch.” He hissed, but the swears rolled off his tongue with no bite. They were merely adjectives to him. “I can't help when he defies me.” She said sharply, and Eddie knew she wasn't just talking about now. His incident with the swing set was the impetus for the situation he found himself in. 

The man, swearing under his breath, ushered them into the room. Eddie felt like jelly, unable to move any part of himself. He was instead dragged in by his mother. Once inside the man closed the door behind him. He bent down and picked up a roll of duct tape. 

“No!” Eddie cried, not knowing what he would do with it. But he had an idea, and whatever it was would be terrible.

“Stop it.” His mom hissed, yanking his arm. But this was beyond him now, the ability to shut his emotions inside was gone, now pure fear taking over again. 

“Please don't!” Eddie said tearfully, even as he was rolling the duct tape around the back of his head. He stuck his head up high, hoping to throw the man off but instead he shoved Eddie's head back down, roughly wrapping the duct tape over and over until he couldn't even breathe through his mouth. 

“Shut him up before if there's ever a next time, you retard.” The man snarled at his mom, and even in his terror induced haze Eddie wanted to scream at the man not to call his mom names. But she merely rolled her eyes and motioned to the gurney. “Do you plan on following through or just hurting my child?” she said annoyed. 

The man glared at her and said, “Like you haven't, Kaspbrak. Besides, you're the one who contacted me about this.” Her silence told Eddie he was telling the truth about whatever was going on. 

“Chain the kid to the table with the handcuffs, I've gotta get that rotting shit.” He grumbled, opening the closet and rummaging through it. Eddie shook his head frantically, looking up at his mother with pleading eyes. She looked away, leading him up and on the table. He was hyperventilating now, breath coming out harshly through his nose. I'm gonna die in a gutted house, my mom by my side, he thought crazily. 

The handcuffs bit into the tender flesh of his wrists, chafing red as he yanked up. They would leave marks that later on Eddie would puzzle over, wondering how he got them. But for now they simply bit him, and unable to defend himself Eddie allowed it. 

The man returned, a needle in his hand. He held it expertly, as if he had experience with them. Eddie sincerely hoped he did not. A cloth was in his other hand, smelling vaguely alcoholic and not in the rubbing alcohol way. As if he had poured some whiskey on it and declared it was close enough. 

“Gotta say Kaspbrak,’ he said as he rubbed the cloth on the boys forearm, “you've been goddamn lucky. I ain't seen a whole lot of kids born with the Syph, but the ones I do see are all nasty and rotten. You sure you wanna deal with that?” 

Her face was red and angry, the expression piercing. One that Eddie knew to avoid at all costs. “Yes, I'm sure. Now get on with it.” She snapped, turning away from them. He shrugged, before tapping the end of the needle. He turned to look the boy in the eyes and Eddie saw neither pity nor loathing. Somehow that was more horrifying, as if he couldn't care less. Might as well shoot God knows what into some random kids arm, his eyes said. I ain't got anything better to do. 

Eddie turned away, kicking and yanking wildly. Tears were falling steadily from his eyes, handcuffs drawing blood. The bottom layer of duct tape was sticky and wet, drawn up from his mouth. But the other layers were stacked on top, and he was unable to attempt to get them off. 

He uttered a scream stopped by the duct tape when the needle stabbed into his forearm carelessly. “Shit.” The man muttered, withdrawing it quickly. Again, this time hitting something that made him gasp and go stock still with pain. 

And then, fire. 

It shot through his veins almost immediately, a foreign virus that was not supposed to be there. To Eddie, it had an awareness of its own, enraged and roaring as it tore his body apart, searching for an exit. You will not find one, he thought feverishly. We are trapped with each other now. 

He stopped fighting quickly, the beast raging in him taking his strength. Instead he surrendered himself over to its grasp, letting it crush him. He had thought he was getting punished but truly this was torture. 

“We'll have to discuss money, Kaspbrak, since you made me mix that shit together. You know that a disease like that with mind altering drugs will severely fuck his system? If he dies I need enough money to leave this shit hole.” The man said, but his voice was far away and tinny, as if coming from a phone with bad reception. His mother answered back, gibberish Eddie could not understand. He was too busy being swept up in a sea of red, high and away from the room and that earth and that solar system. 

I could eat the stars for breakfast and no one would know, he thought incoherently. Devour planets for dinner. I could destroy whole universes. 

He abruptly crashed back onto the gurney as the handcuffs were snapped off of him. His entire body was being flayed alive by some mysterious figure that had learned how to get inside the human body. Veins bursting, brain bleeding, skin peeling. He was a fucking abomination created and served before the sky, whatever that meant. But it was important, Eddie knew that much. 

“The closet. He can't hear from the closet.” A voice said suddenly, dark and low. As he was shoved to his feet, he stumbled into a black hole where there was no sound or air to breathe or anything to hear. It became darker as the closet door was closed on him. 

Space returned to him and he tried to scream, but gave up after he remembered no sound exists in space. Who was he to break the rules of the universe. Holding his hand out, it extended until Eddie could no longer see it, instead drifting somewhere in the cosmos, perhaps batting a planet around like a ball. He was the planet and the world and he was God, just floating in God. 

He was God and he could not scream because he had been shut in a tiny suffocating closet with duct tape covering his mouth. It was immense and narrow at the same time, shoulders bumping with both walls and nothing. Nothing and Everything, what he was made up of. The darkness was too much for this God and he decided a nap would be best, propped up by the wall and/or space. 

When Eddie returned to reality, veins still fiery and head still fuzzy, he was in the car. The highway moved endlessly with him, duct tape still around his mouth. What had just happened? He wracked his brain for anything, only having fuzzy recollections of being in space. A dream, perhaps? But then why was duct tape covering his mouth? 

He fell asleep again, this time propped up only by the side of the car. His brain was already being erased of what had just transpired, partly the drugs and partly trauma. When he awoke again the duct tape would be gone and he would feel vaguely dizzy, sitting up in bed and aching everywhere. 

A week later, he would discover a soft area on his cheek where when he pushed, revealed the rotting black inside. 

~~~~~~~~

He felt emptier than the night before when the closet door opened and he realised tear tracks were visible on his cheek, still leaking from his one working eye. The other one was stolen, taken by a paranoid mother and indifferent man and drugs and viruses that coursed through his veins and became his blood. 

He was made of death and hallucinations and when Bill looked at him Eddie thought he saw it also. 

“Eh-eh-Eddie? Are yuh-you okay?” Bill asked instead, and the glimmer of understanding left his face the way the memory had been stolen from his mind. 

Not knowing what else to do, Eddie nodded and wiped the tears off of his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a bit shorter, it was just more of a backstory I wanted to tell I guess. I'm sorry if its a bit more intense than normal, I just wanted to show how far Sonya was willing to go to keep Eddie under her thumbs.
> 
> To address how this connects with doctor last chapter - if Eddie had ever gotten penicillin the strain of necrosis injected in him wouldn't have ever worked at least in my medical world. The necrosis kinda attached to the syphilis, and since syphilis eats away at skin in some cases the necrosis "intensifies" this and helps the process. At least in this world lol. Thats how I at least thought it connected with the end of chapter 7...idk. I tried.


	9. Treponema Pallidum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie is just happy to be able to hold Eddie in his arms again, Eddie confronts his past and something stirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie this is much longer than expected!! Wasn't feeling very inspired but by the end I was writing frantically lol. Also I'm at my dads for about a week and a half starting today, so idk how it will affect the story upload schedule and whatnot. Hopefully not negatively! Also uploads are planned for every day just so everyone knows. Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Richie had not expected Bill to be so tense leading him up to Eddie. He had seemed uncomfortable, ushering him in quickly. 

“H-he...suh-suh-something happened buh-but he won't say w-what.” He had confessed as soon as he had pulled Richie in. He felt his heart pick up, terrified the smaller boy was hurt. Bill quickly reassured him that no, the boy was physically fine. It was in his mind that he was worried about. 

Richie had expected this, the way the boy had been so closed off the night before, seeming to either be in the middle of an intense breakdown or like nothing bothered him at all. He was messed up and although it might not be true, Richie knew that sometimes that made you crazy. He really hoped Eddie wasn't going crazy, because if he was, he would have to go to a special hospital. And he was pretty sure you weren't allowed to kiss in those special hospitals. 

“Juh-just...I kn-kn-know you're guh-gentle with him u-u-u-usually, but he's s-s-scared. Be g-gentle.” Bill murmured, one hand on the handle of his door. Richie felt a stab of irritation at the insinuation he would ever be careless or crude when it came to the boy, but ignored it. Before he had been pretty callous, so he probably deserved it. 

When Bill opened the door they found Eddie sitting on the bed, Bill's clothes hanging from his and drowning his slight body in fabric. Richie again felt a bit irritated. He wanted to see what Eddie looked like in his clothes, a random stab of jealousy that surprised himself. It didn't matter that much but still...he found himself wondering if they slept in the same bed last night. If Bill held Eddie till he fell asleep. He wanted to scream at Eddie, tell him Bill wasn't thinking of him but Georgie. 

But one look at the boys’ face stopped the words thickening his throat. He was pale, whole body shaking and fingers digging hard into his knees. Itchin’ for a good itching, Richie thought drily. 

“Hey Eddie.” He said softly, entering the darkened room. The boy didn't pick his head up, instead attempting to block Richie out by shutting his eye tight and bending down further. He was alarmed, seeing Eddie so far gone. Yes, he had been distraught and scared last night...but this was not right. He seemed ready to fall into a world of his own, where perhaps he was God and created everything. 

Richie took a few steps closer, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. Eddie shivered, face drawing scarily tight for a moment before relaxing and staring up at him. His face was even and unreadable in an instant, the possible breakdown avoided by a mere inch. This Eddie was someone else, made to protect his fragile mind and body and spirit from those who sought to hurt him. 

“My mother did this to me.” He said listlessly, and Richie felt confused but scared for Eddie. Of course his mother had done this, kept him in a tiny room and never let him out. But was the boy just realising this? Was that causing him to break down? 

“She did. But you're safe now.” Richie reassured him, hand moving to rub his back. With every second he was near, his old Eddie was coming back out for the comfort and affection. The blank slate was only for those categorised as dangerous, and even if Richie had been brandishing a knife and cutting his throat, he knew Eddie would stare into his eyes with a loving look and offer himself up. He would twist his neck a bit and tell him the jugular is here, pointing to it. Cut there Richie and feast on me and be me and love me. 

“She did this to me.” He said with far less conviction, instead leaning back into the boys’ soft touch. Richie, by the contrary, felt more confident and sat down next to Eddie, wrapping his arms around him. “You're safe now, Eddie Spaghetti.” He said softly and it seemed to work, a small smile gracing Eddie's lips. The crisscrossing marks interconnected and entwined and Richie wanted to be with them, so he did just that. 

Every time they kissed it felt like pure waves of energy jolting Richie to his core, grounding him but shaking him so intensely at the same time. I have been nailed to the ground while an earthquake shakes, he thought. 

“You're safe, Eds.” He whispered after they broke apart.

~~~~~~ 

All the Losers had listened eagerly as Bill, Richie and Eddie recounted what had transpired the night before. An emergency sleepover had been broadcast to all of them by Bill, and they all knew not to ignore a call like that. They had shown up, all climbing the old oak tree with various degrees of success. Ben had a rip in his shirt and Stan had leaves in his hair but no one had been hurt. 

As they continued to tell the story, Eddie conveniently left the part out where he discovered his necrosis had been engineered into his veins. That he wasn't even ready to tell Richie. He didn't know if he ever would, because just thinking about it made him nauseous and dizzy. He needed more answers before putting his thoughts into words. 

“Eddie…” Beverly breathed out sadly and he felt dazed. His life had turned into the type of tragedies only read about in horror novels, one he was living in. He wished only for a moment that he had never agreed to meet with them that night at the movie theater, instead biking home. He would've been oblivious, unhappy and sullen, but at least he wouldn't be living with knowledge that made him want to die. For the first time ever he wished he had simply rotted all away before things got so bad. 

Richie was still by his side, arms still wrapped around Eddie as he stuck his face into the crook of his neck. He felt guilty, keeping so many secrets from people so important to him, but realistically Eddie would’ve gone stark raving mad the moment they left his mind. It was too much to say, much less admit. 

They were quiet most of the night, simply talking quietly and watching old movies. The somber mood stayed in the room, no one having any solutions. 

Eddie had one, though. 

Soon enough everyone was falling asleep haphazardly like two nights before, and Eddie marveled at the fact it had only been at the very most two days before his life fell apart. Since he fell apart and a stronger part of him picked the shards he liked best and constructed a new, better Eddie. 

Once everyone was asleep, even Richie whose grip was loose enough to slip out of, Eddie slowly got up and made his way to the window. On a whim he pulled on the sweatshirt hanging on a bedpost, breathing in the scent of Bill. He would attempt to be more like Bill now, brave and confident and strong. 

He opened the window and started climbing the old oak down, going silently and carefully. If anyone woke up he would have to explain and then they would tell the others and they would all follow, something Eddie very much wanted. But he wouldn't risk it, wouldn't allow his friends to bring any danger to themselves. Never again, and certainly not Richie. 

Once his socked feet met the cool ground he relaxed, knowing no one was awake. Eddie knew that Stan was the only one who used his kickstand, so he guiltily kicked it up and hopped on the bike. 

“Sorry Stan.” He whispered quietly, before pedaling off slowly at first. The house he had been brought to was in Derry, he knew that. In fact, he had biked past it many times, simply oblivious to the significance of it. He had even seen a leper there once, horrible and rotting and with a red balloon. But that was another memory for another day. 

Neibolt street rolled by slowly, and Eddie turned harshly, past the church where some still murmured quietly inside. He realised with neither sunglasses nor bandages, he might actually be going into this blind. But it was worth a try. 

The lawn was still long and overgrown, pavement still cracked. The house still reeked of fear and anger. Eddie ignored this, dismounted the bike at the gate and kicked the kickstand down. Stan would've wanted him too. 

He apprehensively approached the front door, walking up the porch. Who knew if the man was still here, maybe he had left just like he said he would. Eddie knocked on the door anyways and almost immediately the man opened the door. 

His face was blank at first, until he noticed who it was. “You.” He croaked out, confusion written all over his face, before anger took over. “Get outta here kid, I've got business soon.” He snapped, moving to close the door. 

“No!” Eddie said desperately, pushing on the door to open it more. The man stared at him, unreadable. “Answers,” He said, staring back. “I want some answers.” The man laughed harshly, but didn't move to close the door again. Instead he ushered the boy inside. Eddie did with no hesitation, already past his fear. 

“You got some fuckin’ guts, I'll give you that kid. But if we gonna discuss some things, we do it in a private room.” The man said, turning from him and advancing in the house. Eddie followed closely behind him. 

“You injected me with something. Please, just tell me what it was, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. I just want answers.” Eddie begged, aware he sounded pathetic. The man didn't respond, instead opening the door to a room Eddie knew. The man motioned inside, making it abundantly clear the boy was to go first. 

He did, slowly, cautiously, expecting a trick. It came when the man suddenly scooped him up, shut the door with a slam and hefted him into the room. 

“LET GO!” Eddie screamed, but the grip was too tight. It swung him around and slammed him hard into the wall, head banging harshly. He felt the grip let go and he slid down the wall, head bleeding somewhere. He could feel it trickling down his scalp. 

“You want answers boy?” The man growled, pacing a half circle around Eddie. He dazedly reached over and stuffed a pack of matches into one of the pockets of Bill's sweatshirt. 

The man was advancing now, speaking in a low dark tone, “You can get some fuckin’ answers in the grave if you don't stop right fucking now-” once he was close enough Eddie pounced, digging sharp nails into his face. The man roared and used one huge hand to slap him away, but Eddie held fast. 

He screamed in a fear and rage only known to small children desperately defending themselves, digging in a deep as he could. Eddie had great practice digging in as deep as possible into skin, and then ripping layers off. He raked them up and chunks of skin left the man's face with a loud ripping sound. 

The man roared again and this time grabbed his neck with lightning quick reflexes. Eddie choked suddenly, surprised and terrified. His oxygen supply was cut off, hands steadfast on his neck. They both looked surprised for a moment and Eddie reflected on what they must look like. A man picks a small child up by the neck and holds him in the air so that they are level. The boy has flesh under his long fingernails and all evidence points to the man's face being where he got it. 

But then the man's face hardened and he squeezed harder, slamming Eddie's body into the wall. His mind screamed for Richie to save him but even if his voice worked, Richie would not come. He had left him sleeping soundly in a warm and inviting bedroom, leaving to confront his past. Richie was not part of this, he was part of a future that actually might not come if those fucking hands kept wringing his neck. 

They both slid to the floor this time, the man bringing Eddie down with exertion. “Fuckin’ die!” The man screamed, pressing harder on the tiny throat in his grasp. Eddie felt as though the inner walls of it were being pressed into each other by now, physically bending under such immense pressure. 

Eddie struggled, feet kicking out and hitting the man on the arms, feet, stomach. Anywhere to make the agony of no breath go away. His hands were reaching too, desperate for anything. His hand connected with a slice of glass and he brought it up quickly, intent on slicing the man's face open. 

But he saw it coming and turned them so that they were sitting now, the man against the wall and Eddie in front of it. He threw the glass weakly out of despair, vision going dark. He would die all because he had to ask a fucking question about what had happened 4 years ago. 

Ready to give up, his left hand closed around something. He fought the sudden dizziness and black vision, ready to use whatever was in his hand. It was a screwdriver, rusty but sharp. He could stab with it, stab and kill and run and never remember any of this. Eddie brought his right hand up, digging nails into his neck desperately. This time he would not allow the man to notice the weapon beforehand. He could notice it in death. 

The man took the bait, growling and turning to look at the hand. Eddie raised the screwdriver, took a moment to make sure he was aligned with the soft flesh of his neck, and stabbed. 

The screwdriver went in, it stayed in. The man grunted, surprised, but the grip on him only tightened, throat being crushed in the hands surrounding it. Eddie wheezed heavily, face turning blue. He yanked the screwdriver and stabbed desperately, kept stabbing even as the man moaned in pain and grip on his throat loosened. 

But still, the hands crushed and squeezed and stole his breath so Eddie pulled it out for a final time and reached higher, higher than the neck, stabbing once and finally into something that let the screwdriver in much more readily. The man bellowed, hands finally releasing and shoving Eddie out of reach. 

He let in a hearty gasp, one which rasped in his throat and let out a high rattle. Tears which had already been falling were steadily multiplying, mixing with the sprays of blood that coated his face and hair and neck. Hot and bright red, pumped directly from the heart of the man into his neck, let free by Eddie. Some got in his mouth but he didn't spit it out, instead swallowing. What the hell, so much shit had already been pumped into him. It wouldn't hurt him anymore than a live strain of necrosis had. 

Eddie sobbed freely, the room so dark and the man breathing heavily mere feet from him, and he knew if he turned the screwdriver would still be in his eye. His throat felt terrible, crushed and tiny as if breath was needles stabbing at it. “Please,” He rasped to no one in particular, simply listening to the way it crumbled under the weight of his abused throat. 

Eddie was tired, so tired of being a stranger to his own past. This man, this nightmare who had attempted to kill him was a part of that, would be gone forever now though. He had struck him down with nothing but a screwdriver and pure will. And if he could kill one part of his past, he could kill all of it. He could forget the tragedies and simply be happy and oblivious, days spent in darkened closets, nights spent with the Losers. 

He could kill and be guilt free. 

Still slightly scared but fear mostly knocked out now, Eddie turned back to stare at the man whose breathing was slowly fading. He was on his back, having given up the will to hold himself up. Blood was pooling out of the multiple stab wounds dotting his neck, screwdriver standing awkwardly out of his eye. It was collapsed, seeming to inflate on itself. 

However brave Eddie was, he still felt disgusted and threw up right next to him. It burned through his battered throat, cutting off his air again for a mere moment that sent him panicking. 

Once he was done, the urge to puke having not resurfaced even after staring at the body again 

(because yes now it was a body oh God Eddie had killed someone took the life in his hands and decided it wasn't worthy but it really wasn't so why do you feel so guilty?) 

and the screwdriver that was now resting on the mans’ face, Eddie clumsily stumbled to his feet. His own face and hair were slick with blood, some strange ritual initiated by himself. The man was still dead. 

“Fuck you, bastard.” He cursed, swiping at it with his foot. Tears were resurfacing, trickling down in a steady stream once again. Would trickle in two if this man hadn't shot him up with whatever was in that needle. 

Eddie gave up, not feeling better as his foot connected again and again with the body. In fact it made him feel guiltier, cowardly even. Kick when he can't reprimand you by killing you. 

So he simply turned and slowly made his way out of the house, the only noises he heard being his own heart and footsteps. A sniffle as he choked back a sob. A thin reedy sound when he attempted to breathe. He finally made it to the front door, the same one he had entered at 10 years old, clinging to his mother and apprehensive. It did not deserve to stand. It did not deserve to lay there like a pile of bones. Eddie's bones. His bones from the past, buried and dug back up in a closet. He really did have a skeleton in the closet. 

Eddie fumbled with the packet of matches that he had swiped before fighting desperately for his life. They lay heavily in the pocket of the sweatshirt taken from Bill, seeming to accuse him. This was your plan all along, they said. You were gonna kill that man and burn this place down with no care in the world, but you told us you only wanted to talk. 

I was and I am, he answered back. 

He struck on quickly, watching as a flame appeared. It was tiny but Eddie had faith in it, had faith it would grow to swallow the house up and the world and his heart. He would leave that with his conscious, which was in a disheveled pile next to the body he also left. Perhaps two murders had been committed at the house, only that one was physical and the other mental. 

Eddie flicked it onto the wooden wall of the house and watched it eat hungrily, a starved predator devouring a meal. He lit another and walked down the porch, before setting fire to the last step. Slowly, methodically, he lit every single match in the box and added to the growing flame. 

“Give ‘em hell, boys.” He said in the cool night lit by a burning funeral pyre. His eyes stung only by smoke. 

The fire department would be there soon, and the cops. A women had finally noticed the unusual lighting and phoned immediately when she realised what it was. She would also report what appeared to be a small child standing in the lawn and watching. 

As he walked away from it, she would breathe into the phone, “He just looked up and I swear to God...he only has one eye. Dear God, what's happening?” 

But that would come later, and for now Eddie would enjoy his work, basking in it. The man had gotten what was coming, he rationalised now. He had just gave what had came, like a messenger. A messenger of Death. 

The flames gutted the old building slowly but surely. 

~~~~~~

Something ancient in the house stirred, enraged. 

The boy had burned down his house, burned it down even though it had been nice enough to allow him to escape last year. His fear had been palpable but he was more scared of something else. 

Now, this though. It would require years of sacrifice and feasting to even quell Its rage. Slipping through the roaring fire in the house, to the body of a man so brutally murdered, 

(Which It could respect in an abstract way, as much as It loved fear It did also indulge in mindless killing every now and then) 

and studied him. After having adequate time too, It changed from the weak glimmer It had been to the image of a tall and strong man. His throat had been punctured several times and a screwdriver hung uselessly from his eye.  


The boy may have been one chosen by the Turtle, and those other brats might have gotten away from It last year, but they had not killed It. 

No, It was far from over. But this time...this time he would hunt more specific. Hunt closer to home. 

It would hunt all of the Losers club and save the diseased for last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this is again too intense but I really don't have any filter in a way


	10. Rashes On The Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill makes a tough decision, and Eddie has a Bad Break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went to Barnes and Noble today, got some cool new books. Finally got Misery, which I am soooo excited to read tonight!!! I'm sorry if this chapter seems a little like the tone changes quickly from place to place, I started writing segments before and then had to connect them so this is probably the worst written chapter so far, and I'm really sorry about that. I was just having a hard time connecting the segments, but I tried my hardest. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading!!

Bill woke when he heard Eddie sneak it, heard a strange rasping sound that rattled in the air, smelt smoke and the strange copper tang of blood. He opened his eyes slowly and saw him shuffling slowly, Bill's sweatshirt draped over him and blood coating his hair and face. Dark purple, almost black bruises ringed his throat.

Sitting up in his bed, which currently was also being overtaken by Stan, he called out “Eh-Eddie?” as quietly as he could. 

Eddie froze, halfway through the room at that point and turned to face Bill. His eye was bloodshot and half closed, exhaustion readily on his face. The bruises were much worse from the front angle, deepening and spreading out. 

“Yeh-ess?” He croaked out, the words barely escaping. They were breathy and weak, hanging in the air by a thread. Bill felt alarmed, wanting nothing more than to hop over to the boy and gather him in his arms, rock him like he used to rock Georgie and ask him what had happened. 

“Leh-let's go t-to th-thu-the bathroom.” Bill said quietly, gently untangling his limbs from Richie's and Stan’s. The boy didn't disagree, instead waiting silently to be guided back. Bill grabbed his wrist, and opened the door quietly to lead him out. 

Where had he been? Why was he so bloody? Was he bleeding? Was he dying? His mind raced with the possibilities of what could have happened, each one worse than the last. He felt angry at Eddie for leaving. Did he know how it would affect the Losers? How it would affect Richie?

Did he understand how much it would affect Bill? 

Once inside the bathroom, he closed the door and turned to glare at Eddie. “Whu-what hap-p-pened?” Bill hissed, roughly sitting him down on the toilet and taking his sweatshirt off of him. Eddie looked dazed, breathing still coming out thick and raspy. His face was stained red, hair slick with the blood. He absently touched the bruises on his neck and winced at the pain. 

“I'm fine.” He wheezed out, not even looking at Bill, instead staring at some unknown point with a misty eye. Bill felt angrier, but attempted to not let it show. Whenever he had been mad at Georgie, the younger boy had gotten sullen and angry back. Eddie was his redemption and it would go perfectly this time, no matter what. Bill would make absolutely sure of it. 

“Yuh-you're hurt.” He said simply, running a washcloth under hot water. Eddie didn't seem to have the energy to deny it, instead slumping down the toilet, his breathing strained. Shutting off the hot water, Bill turned to him and bent down, rubbing his face gently with the hot cloth. 

“Whu-what ha-ha-happened?” He asked quietly, putting a reassuring hand on his hair, even though the sticky feeling of the blood grossed him out. Eddie seemed to focus a bit better, eye finally taking Bill in. He kept rubbing his face, determined to get all of the blood off. 

“I…” He started hesitantly, opening and shutting his mouth. That close Bill could see faint freckles and if that didn't punch him in the gut so hard he almost stumbled nothing ever did. Georgie had freckles barely visible unless you were close enough to study his face and the last time Bill had was when he had been sick, paper folded carefully into a boat for him. 

Eddie opened his mouth again and piece by piece, explained what had happened. He started with the closet as Bill dazedly washed his neck as gently as possible, attempted to wash his hair, get every last drop of the man's blood off of him. Listened dazedly as he cleaned his head wound carefully. 

“I need to go back out, Bill. I need to learn more. There's so much I probably don't know.” He rasped, eye wide and cheeks flushed. Bill felt terror claw at his heart and he jumped up, throwing the washcloth into the sink. Georgie had gotten out, just for fun and he had died. Eddie going out for answers...he had also been killed. Bill wouldn't allow it. Couldn't allow it. He took a deep breath, teeth clenched, and turned to the smaller boy. 

“No.” He said through clenched teeth, no trace of the stutter anywhere. Eddie seemed shocked for a second, before hardening also. 

“You can't keep me here.” He said quietly, standing up from his sitting position. Bill blocked the bathroom door, arms crossed. Older brothers had to be harsh sometimes, and he was known to be just that. He was sure Eddie would just leave and get hurt again, possibly killed this time. 

“I-I-I can ah-and I will.” He said stubbornly. He had been stupid enough to believe a little kid like Georgie wouldn't get hurt, and look where that had landed him.

Eddie was silent and strong for a moment, before something overtook him, crumpling his face and forcing tears from his eye. “Wha-what’re you gonna do if I try to leave Bill? Gonna lock the bedroom door and bring my meals to me? Gonna keep me inside all the time?” He cried, and Bill's heart sank. In that moment, he sounded exactly like his mother, threatening and overbearing. But his version of it, Bill rationalised, was justifiable. Look what happened when he does get out. He gets strangled damn near to death, sets a house on fire and kills someone. 

“If i-it keeps yuh-you safe.” He hissed back, bracing himself against the door. Eddie cried louder, sinking again to the floor. He looked so desperate, hands in his hair, face screwed up into a pitiful expression. He looked like he was going crazy, Bill realised. Cabin fever, stir-fry madness. 

“I'm not some child, Bill!” He whimpered, face turned away as he desperately tried to hold his tears. Bill wavered, wanting nothing more than to bend down and rub his back, promise that everything would be okay and that he would be safe now. 

Instead he stood still and kept his face stony, a big brother to the end. “Yuh-you will ah-ah-ah-agree to stay huh-here.” He said, arms crossed and shaking slightly at the devastation he had wrought on Eddie. 

He seemed to gain his composure for a moment, steel filling the boy's veins. Tears streamed but he raised his face, expression fierce. “No.” He hissed, struggling to his feet. Bill wavered again, not sure of what to do. He reached for the doorknob, and after a moment of hesitation, walked out and slammed the door behind him. 

He heard Eddie breathe out, “No!” and scramble for the door, turning the doorknob frantically. Bill held steadfast, holding the door closed. He was the stronger of the two for sure, and Eddie soon gave up, instead seeming to sit again and cry. 

“Ruh-Richie.” He called out, knowing the Losers had probably been listening in the room over, unsure of what to do. Sure enough the boy came quickly, face angry and concerned. 

“What the fuck Bill?! Let him out!” He hissed, arms thrown out for exaggeration. “Suh-so he can h-h-hurt himself again?” He hissed back, keeping the door shut. Richie’s face fell, immediately giving the fight up. He knew there was no way that Richie would fight him if he thought there was any chance that Eddie was in danger. 

“Then what do we do?” He said sullenly, both listening to the sobs on the other side of the door. Bill thought for a moment, thinking of the one hiding place in his room. Of how they could barricade it, have Eddie inside for just an hour at the most, just calm him down…

It was incredibly cruel but Bill saw no other alternative so he told Richie as much. Instead of the immediate disapproval he had expected, Bill was instead surprised to watch his face harden and a curt nod. He realised, for perhaps the first time, how deeply Richie loved Eddie. Loved him enough to risk the other boys hate, if only to keep him safe.

“I'll talk to him.” Richie said grimly, so Bill left him whispering to the door, making the trek back to his room. 

He found the Losers just the way he expected to, silent but awake. They stared at Bill with a mix of expressions, some with pity and some with anger. 

He burst into tears and sat down on his bed. If only Georgie was there, ready to make everything better with a hug and a kiss, his warmth making anyone feel better. His second chance was going horribly, and Bill wanted nothing more than to turn everything around and tell Eddie he was sorry and about how scared he was. 

“Bill, it's okay. We would've done the same.” Stan said softly, leaning over to give him a rare Stanley hug. I must really look like shit, he thought. Stan was notorious for giving hugs only as a last resort. 

“Wuh-we need to muh-make sure he's t-t-telling the truth.” He said finally, more drained than ever. The Losers looked amongst themselves, but the decision was unanimous. If Eddie really had done everything he said he had, then they needed to get an adult involved. Murder was serious, even in self defense. Arson was also. 

“Huh-he needs to c-calm down. S-so…” Bill said helplessly, gesturing to the closet. He didn't want to, not under any other circumstances but he was at a loss. Any better idea had left his brain the moment he associated Georgie with Eddie, rational thoughts left for those not them. 

“I don't like it Bill, but I don't have any other ideas.” Beverly said, eyes boring into him. She could see it, see the way Bill couldn't help but baby the boy. Eddie and Georgie, even their names rhymed. 

Richie came in, dragging an unresponsive Eddie with him. His head was hanging down, seeming to be in shock. He knew what was going to happen, but didn't seem ready to believe it. Didn't want to. 

Bill didn't want to either, thinking about how far they had all delved. Him maybe most of all, crazily and desperately forcing Eddie into the box of younger brother. Richie let go of the boy's hand and sat him down in the closet, where he continued to look dazed and scared until the door was closed. 

Richie was unreadable, standing in front of the door. They were all silent, listening to the weak noises of Eddie's breathing picking up as he clumsily stood up. 

“Wait!” They heard him breathe quietly after a moment, finally seeming to realise what was happening. 

Bill closed his eyes as tears threatened to fall again. He would barricade the door, block him in. He would not be allowed to leave. Georgie was not allowed to die again, even a Georgie half rotted and strangled and far more steelier and fiercer than before. 

“Puh-put my d-desk in fru-fru-front of th-th-the door.” He said quietly, eyes still shut tight. He heard noises as someone silently did that. The guilt eating him alive, Bill opened his eyes and explained his plan to follow what Eddie had said he did since Richie dropped him off from the sleepover. He explained it over the slams of Eddie attempting to open the door, over the steely gaze of Richie. 

He closed his eyes again and let the guilt wash him clean.  
~~~~~

Eddie was going fucking mad. He was locked in the closet, doors caved in and the Losers just outside, talking. Talking about him, about what to do with him, if they should tell an adult. He had banged furiously on the doors at first, knuckles bloodied and raw. His voice, still hoarse from being strangled, was not strong enough to scream. 

At least, not yet. But as soon as he felt the airways open up enough, he was going to scream as loud and as shrilly as possible. One of Bill's parents would hear it, would come upstairs, and then…

And then what? If they saw Eddie they would be the ones screaming. They would call the police and the whole story would get out, some urban legend that ended up being true. Some sob story carted off to the nearest loony bin. But anything was better than this, locked in a closet by his family, while they talked about what to do with him. It always came to this, Eddie reaching a breaking point and his family not being able to deal with. So they locked him away, avoided him, dealt with him as minimally as possible. 

Why had he allowed himself to be talked out of the bathroom? He could've locked the door, threatened, fought. Literally anything but letting Richie's voice lead him into the small space, constant reassurances lulling him. He had been too weak, too broken. Had been too tired to hold out, instead wanting to just drown in the comfort the Losers usually provided for him. 

And now he was locked in a fucking closet, a situation he found himself in too frequently for his tastes. 

“Eddie Spaghetti?” A soft voice said suddenly, near enough to be heard. Eddie scrambled up, eager to hear what Richie had to say to him, ready to be lulled once more. Anything to get out of the godforsaken hellhole. 

“Yes?” He said breathily, still attempting to save the strength for later. Richie hesitated and Eddie wanted to scream at him to open the door, so he could slap them all and cry and forgive. Maybe get ice cream after. But instead he waited, fingers curled into fists anxiously. 

“We're gonna go to the store. Talk to that cashier.” He mumbled, now so close that Eddie was certain if he hit the door it would smash his glasses. It was tempting, anger flaring in him, but he swallowed it down. Richie did not deserve his anger. The Losers did not. They were children, scared and at a loss for what to do. 

“What, think I mighta done something differently?” He said sarcastically, tear pricking his eye. Why did they care about the cashier? He had gotten change from him, that was all. No earth shaking revelations would be found there. 

“Just checking some stuff Eds.” Richie said back, voice small with discomfort and embarrassment. Eddie closed his eye, imagined Richie doing the same and breathed deep. 

“Okay.” He whispered and turned away from the door. Every angry thing that was bubbling in him was at the surface, screaming at him to do something, but he again ignored it. 

“Love you, Eds.” The voice said quietly and paused for a second. What did he expect Eddie to say, I love you too? Yes thank you so much, this closet is lovely and just what I wanted tell Bill I paid rent this month now please I really have to go to the bathroom. 

After a long moment, the voice sighed and footsteps sounded farther and farther away, making him want to cry. Beg for Richie to come back, because he really did love him. He loved him so much that it physically hurt to know that he didn't trust Eddie not to listen to reason. Which he wouldn't have but that was besides the point. 

Once minutes had passed, more than he felt he could count or stand, he stood up straight and listened as hard as he could. Eddie thought he could hear faint voices downstairs, maybe some footsteps. He needed to be certain Bill's parents were home. Voice still too weak to be coaxed into screaming, he knew he would have to force it. And it wouldn't be fun, not at all. 

“Do it. Be quick, do it.” He whispered to himself, psyching himself up. His mind buzzed with possibilities, but it all came back to the same one. He took a deep breath and was ready, arm as far back as he could pull it. 

He slammed it as hard as possible onto the closet wall, a thin moan ripped from his lips. Silence, for a moment until a man's voice called out “Bill?” 

Whipping his arm back again, Eddie slammed it even harder, this time an actual scream echoing from his damaged throat. Footsteps scrambled from downstairs, racing into the room. 

As someone opened the door, hesitantly asking “Who's in here?”, Eddie whipped his arm back for the last time and slammed it into the wall as hard as possible, feeling something crack. He screamed hard, falling back onto the closet door. 

Footsteps came to the door, moving whatever the Losers had blocked it with to yank it open. Eddie turned dazedly, looking into the eyes of who must've been Bill's dad. He wore a horrified expression on his face, and Eddie knew what he must look like. Some kid with half his face missing, throat ringed with deep bruises, red patches of skin scratched off covering him, one arm at an angle it definitely was not meant to be in. A monster child with pain written on every inch of his body. 

“Hi.” Eddie said politely, and closed his eye in exhaustion and pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give Eddie his Bad Break, lol. Also although I believe I made the Losers go a bit extreme, I think their reactions are reasonable, if only flawed by their panic and fear for Eddie. Idk.


	11. Canis Lupus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie feels overwhelming guilt and is told something he doesn't quite understand and Eddie gets free and ponders his lineage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo this chapter is 2 hours early bc I finished it and couldn't stand to not share it. Chapter 12 may or may not come tonight, it depends on how quickly I finish my homework. Anyone's who read The Female of the Species (which I talk about in my end note) can probably tell I've given some of Alex's character to Eddie. Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

He walks with a purpose that he does not know yet. 

Hair cut messily, uneven with shorter bits in the front. He wears old bandages over one side of his face and broken sunglasses. Old bruises mottle his throat, looking moderately uncomfortable. He is moderately uncomfortable to look at, a child sized train wreck. 

He is calm, as calm as one might be having looked like they just survived a massacre. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he caused one, hacking people to bits. His clothes still have tags on them, a black long sleeve shirt several sizes too big and red shorts that are the right size. He is barefoot but it does not appear to bother him, feet padding the cement with a sureness that radiates from him. People stare heavily as he walks down the streets of downtown Derry. 

He veers suddenly, crossing the street with no cares as cars honk and stop abruptly, one swerving to avoid hitting him. He raises one hand in acknowledgment and continues on. 

Entering the police station, he walks up to the counter, where a seasoned looking cop is arguing with a receptionist. 

He leans on the counter, tugs on the cops sleeve and says, “You asked for me?” 

~~~~~~~  
Eddie was tired of feeling like he was fucking crazy, but more tired of people thinking he was. That was the look he read off of Bill's parents, that a crazy child sat across from them, unhinged and unstable. Perhaps one did, because after all he had just broken his arm for their attention. 

“Please, really. I don't need an ambulance. I just needed the closet door open.” He tried to explain, sitting at the long dining room table. The adults exchange a worried look, before turning back to look at Eddie. 

“Why were you in the closet?” Bill's dad asked quietly, leaning forward. After finding him, he had freaked out and called 911. The ambulance would be there soon and Eddie didn't have time to answer questions, the need to go find the Losers much stronger. In fact his arm barely hurt now except for the odd throb or two. He supposed he could chalk that up to feeling the new Eddie speak up, take control. He was built to withstand pain and pressure. He did not break easily. 

“It's a long story.” Eddie muttered wryly, hopping off of the chair. He really must be going, the ambulance siren was growing louder and louder. Both adults stand up, shell-shocked by what was happening but determined to stop him from leaving. Just like his mom. Just like Bill. Just like Richie. 

He narrowed his eyes and tensed at the two of them. “Don't even dare trying to stop me from leaving.” He said evenly, arms crossed. It caused a ghost pain to shiver down his broken one, and he winced. Okay, so the pain was a bit worse than he had first thought. But he was Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, who survived necrosis, eczema, isolation, mental breakdowns and strangulation. This broken arm was laughable compared to the rest of his life. 

“Okay, okay...just...it seems to hurt.” Bill's mom said uncertainly, sitting back down. Eddie grinned sourly, nodding at her. Of course it hurt, but no pain no gain right? He felt so far his pain had given him a lazy payout. More better be coming his way. 

“Got any sunglasses?” He asked suddenly, the ambulance too close for comfort. But stepping into a full bright day was just a bit too much for one day Eddie decided. He didn't feel like punishing himself incessantly. Bill's dad silently pulled a pair out of a drawer and handed them to him. He put them on, blinking as the world darkened even more than before. 

The ambulance pulled onto the street, and Eddie smiled, turned to the adults and said, “That's my cue to leave. Thanks for letting me out.” They nodded dazedly, not processing what was going on. Not able to yet, at least. 

As he gripped the back door handle, turned and opened it, Eddie hesitated and looked back at the adults still in the dining room. “Don't be hard on Bill, okay? He was just doing what he thought was right.” He called to them, and they jumped, seeming to come down to reality. Eddie didn't wait around to see if that was true, shooting through the back door and onto the road right behind the house.

His footsteps matched the high siren as the ambulance pulled into the Denbrough’s driveway. 

~~~~~~

Richie had never felt so angry and shameful before, all of it filling him up to new extremes. He felt bloated with it as Stan interrogates the cashier with his light and calming voice. He felt angry because Eddie had forced himself to talk to this creep, because Stan was forcing himself to talk to him now. 

They were all mulling around the store as inconspicuous as they could, trying to seem as if they had come in separately. Bill had the idea for one of the boys to flirt with the man to try and confirm it actually had happened to Eddie, the rest placed strategically around the store in case. Stan had been the last one to say “Not it!” so there they were, Stan fumbling over his words, the cashier's smile sickly sweet, Richie silently stewing. 

Stan was muttering, an embarrassed blush high on his face and limbs shaking slightly. The man replied back with something, and Richie watched as Stan’s face went ashy with shock and fear, before he abruptly turned and walked out of the store. 

Richie, anger boiling over, screamed out “Fucking pervert!” He gave the startled cashier the finger before rushing out of the store after Stan. He found the taller boy upset and near tears, ready to hop on his bike and go home. 

“Eddie was right, for sure.” He said grimly to them all after the others had filed out of the store. “Whu-what did h-he say tuh-to you?” Bill asked quietly, face flushed with the same shame that Richie felt. Nothing was going right, this summer was supposed to be different. Supposed to be fun and easy. Now look where that got them. 

Stan looked at him coldly, no doubt remembering how it was his idea, and said “You don't want to know.” They were all quiet after that, a shared feeling of guilt among them. 

“We went to your house next, Bill. We can go back and check on Eddie.” Richie said, itching to check on the boy. They had left him scared and alone in a closet, voice barely above a hoarse whisper. They had left family behind and his loss was felt so acutely by Richie he could not concentrate. Bill nodded glumly, the cue for them all to hop on their bikes. 

Richie could only hope everything would be okay when they got back. 

~~~~~

The store was deserted by the time Eddie got there but that didn't stop him from entering. He pointedly ignored the cashier, instead searching for something, anything to use as a weapon. At this point he didn't know how much anyone knew about him, if the Losers had told the police anything. Perhaps they told an adult and that adult told the police. 

Heading straight onto Breakdown alley, he was certain if the police did know they would inevitably start looking for him. Probably to question him, arrest him, send him to a loony bin. Admittedly, he probably belonged in one of those, but there was no way he would ever go willingly. Bullshit, his mind whispered. If Richie told you it was fun you would skip yourself inside and introduce yourself as Eddie Spaghetti. 

He found a pair of scissors in the crafting isle, encased in plastic and cardboard. He took them and ripped open the packaging right in the aisle, letting it drop to the ground after. Let the cashier pick it up. 

He walked to the cashier now, holding up the scissors and snapping them open and shut. “These are mine now.” He said softly, eye challenging the man. The cashier seemed to stunned or scared to argue, drinking in the sight of a boy with a hole in cheek and a ring of bruises on his throat. Eddie only wished he was able to show him the socket where his eye used to be, smile and wink. 

He turned instead and walked out, scissors heavy in his hands. Something about them was so right to Eddie, a weight in his hands that sat perfectly. Perhaps it was a weight in himself, a sureness in his abilities. Something in him was wholly able of taking people down, able to kill those who deserved it and move on without batting an eye. 

For the first time in a long time, Eddie thought about his father, a figure of myth who was never spoken of, only someone to imagine when he really couldn't sleep. Eddie had gotten his physical disease from his mom, that much was certain, but what about this newfound will? Had his father handed down a legacy of violence and pain, ran when he realised what he had done? Had his father been a predator hoping for prey? 

Because the more Eddie thought about the anger that marred his existence, the more he realised how far back it went. He had marks all around his room where he had punched, kicked, fought incredibly until the anger left his system and he was left panting with bruised knuckles. The walls were usually caved in slightly in his room from his violence. In a way, Eddie thought it was normal, that all children punched and screamed so heavily, that all felt such a rage enter their system that was sustained through pure will. 

But as he walked out of the shop and onto the streets, Eddie thought back to Bill's room, where he had slept for days in a row. 

He could not remember any marks on his walls. 

~~~~~~~

Richie knew shit had hit the fan when the cop told him it was his turn. 

When they had finally gotten to Bill's house, Richie had almost immediately turned and biked away frantically. But instead, hesitantly watching the various police mulling around, he entered with the others. 

With a terrible fascination they had listened as one of the cops had explained the story. Eddie breaking his arm in an effort to draw attention. How it worked. Him running off before the ambulance could show up. Bill's parents seemed in shock, sitting at the dining room table with blank faces. Bill had been silent, reddened and ashamed. They all were. 

So when the cop told them that he would want to ‘interview’ them separately, right then and there, it was like a death sentence. How could they have been so stupid? Richie should've stayed behind, comforted the boy and made sure he wasn't about to lose his mind. But no, instead he had decided to make his way across town with the rest of the Losers for what? For a cashier who made Stan cry? 

“Richie, please come in.” The cop said heavily. Ben walked past him, eyes red and face down. The police had set up Bill's parents room as their office, taking them in one at a time and questioning them. The fact that they had left Richie for last gave him a sick feeling. 

Walking into the room, he sat at on the bed as the cop motioned to it, directly across in a chair. He already felt like crying but swallowed the tears. This was his consequence and he would bear it well. 

“So Richie…” the cop said and Richie could already tell where it was going by his embarrassed expression and uncomfortable body language. “Your friends told me you were closer to Eddie than them.” 

Richie felt his face burn, pride fallen. This wasn't the way he had wanted others to find out, wanted it to be on his own terms. But it was a small price to pay if any information could bring Eddie back alive and well. Or at least alive. So he nodded his head miserably and didn't meet his eyes. 

The cop seemed to soften a bit, sensing the fear and resignation in the boy in front of him. “I don't care what happened between you two, I'm not here to judge. I just wanted to know if he maybe told you anything he didn't tell the others.” 

Richie thought back, straining his head for words muttered between them. The most memorable moment that played over and over was a moment of hesitation, one hand wrapped around a branch and the other clinging to the tree. I love you too, Eddie said. I love you too. Climbing the tree and hesitating but saying it anyways. 

And then he thought harder, back when Bill had biked for home and it was just the two of them on the damp grass. Eddie had said something, crying hard and looking so disheveled, something that made Richie uneasy and scared, he had said- 

“I felt like I was someone else.” He said aloud, the words repeating over and over in his mind. The cop stared at him in confusion but Richie felt he could not explain, mind racing. 

“Eddie. He said that, when me and Bill picked him up from the store. He said, ‘I felt like I was someone else.’ ” Richie said. His heart felt light and jumpy, like he was missing something important. Something had happened, something bad. But what? What had? 

The cop frowned, not in anger but in the way adults frown when they have confirmed bad news. When their suspicions have yielded results they wished weren't true. It scared Richie, watching the cop as he mulled over the words. 

“Tell me Richie,” He said slowly, “Have you ever heard of antisocial personality disorder?” Richie frowned now, cocking his head and staring at the man. “No.” He said simply. 

“Well, out of 8 clear signs of a possible antisocial personality disorder,” the man looked deep into the boy's eyes now, trying hard to convey his message. 

“It seems Eddie shows strong indications of 7.”

~~~~~~

Is madness hereditary? Is it something that can sneak into your body from your ancestors the way cancer can? Or do we make our own madness, break in our own individual way and let it grow from there? 

Eddie believed it was a bit of both. Yes, he had been pushed to extremes lately, forcing him to shatter and put himself together. 

But. 

Anger flowed in him his whole life, stayed in his chest and exploded when it wanted. Not to mention how careless he had grown, only being cautious when his mother forced him to. Had he really been worried about his own safety or had he been worried about some disguise being pulled away, a sham that showed there was really nothing to Eddie Kaspbrak? 

And he thought back to the man he had killed, a fact that only startled him when realising just how little he thought about it. It did not affect him anymore now that the immediate consequences were over and done with, shut in the back of his mind. Had the man really kept choking him after the first stab? Or had Eddie told himself he had, allowed himself to reach back and stab again until he was certain there was no way the man would live? Hadn't he only stopped kicking the man when shame rolled in, shame not for the deed but for seeming like a coward? 

Burning down the house had not been necessary either, an afterthought that he followed through with because he wanted to. More and more, his life was marked with impulsives and anger. 

Eddie left the thoughts behind and walked into a clothing store. His face was bandaged now, and afterthought when he saw them leaving the other store. He had bandaged it quietly, more so not to deal with others reactions than any real fear of infection. He had survived 4 years of open wounds, he wasn't about to die from it anytime soon. The scissors were still close on his person, tucked under his shirt the way someone with a concealed weapons license might. 

He had entered the store with the vague idea of new clothes, since he was tripping over the pajamas Bill had given him, limbs too short to adequately fill them out. The greeter at the doors looked at him strangely but did not attempt to stop him, most likely thinking he was a younger kid with an odd sense of fashion. 

Eddie beelined for the children's section and grabbed clothes haphazardly, not looking for anything in particular. He only wanted them to fit. He did have enough sense left to change in a stall though, where he was surprised to find a tv hanging. It seemed the store might have been slightly more expensive than he hoped, since he would technically be stealing the clothes. And just the thought of fighting with a broken arm and various other injuries left him exhausted. 

The tv was mercifully quiet, voices murmuring quietly on a local news station. Eddie changed his top, being extra careful to avoid the crater in his chest, and dragged it off as quickly as possible. He had grabbed a shirt many sizes too big for him, which was okay. Trying to actually fit into a shirt with his broken arm would be too much to handle at the moment. 

He dressed quicker after that, arm still aching with use but bearable. Until he froze, turned to the tv with wide eyes and left the shorts unzipped for a moment. 

Eddie. The man had said his name, and seemed to be staring straight at him. He wore a badge and did not appear angry or determined, instead seeming concerned. 

Eddie drew closer to the tv, pushing his ear to it to hear better. “-all very concerned. Let me make it clear, if you're watching this Eddie you are not in trouble. We only wish to help you. I just want to help you, and get your story straight.” He drew back like he had been burned. Help him? This cop expected him to believe that? All the adults Eddie had ever encountered in his admittedly short time in the public had only wanted to hurt him. Hurt and control and dominate. 

And maybe they had a point, maybe they could sense a feral nature to him that was not grown but born in him. Passed down from generations of feral boys who took what they wanted and ran when the next showed up. Because ultimately they would kill this new predator, and where was the fun in that? And their keepers, the mothers, always dominated, afraid of this wolf getting loose and eating away at the city because this city already has an alpha. Someone or something that stole children away in the night and never returned them whole. 

Eddie wondered if the reason he had been locked away was really so he would not join the pack of this older and stronger wolf. 

After Eddie finished dressing, he pulled the scissors out, much more unsure this time. These were cops, people he had known were supposed to protect. He could spin the story in his favor and claim innocence. Claim he didn't set the house on fire but it had been started accidentally in the struggle. Maybe, maybe. Or maybe they were waiting with tranquilizer guns at the station, ready to take down another wolf and declare victory. 

Eddie raised the scissors to his hair and snipped some off, it having grown longer than normally allowed. He could cut it in disguise and run, perhaps. Leave the town behind. Leave everything behind. He snipped more chunks of it off even though he knew he would not be leaving. 

He would not leave the Losers behind, especially not Richie. If they were sheep he was the wolf who killed other wolves intent on stealing them. He had just been too careless, allowed himself to return to their midst bloody and prideful. It would not happen again, the next time he would return normally. Because realistically Eddie knew he would kill again, with so many wolves in such a small town it was inevitable. In fact, he didn't know it yet but sooner than he thought the cashier would lay dead at his feet.

His best option so far was to meet the cop and tell his version of the story, the one where he was a lamb who just happened to overcome a wolf. The one where the man did choke him even after the first stab, the one where the man set the house on fire intent on burning them alive. No reason painting his picture with blood. 

So he left the changing room, leaving the scissors and pajamas, chunks of hair scattered on the ground. Some very confused employee would have to clean his mess up, but Eddie was on a mission. He walked confidently even though tags still clung to the clothes and his eczema was red and angry. He had not itched in so long, part due to most of the pain receding. But as he had figured out early on, when one pain left another took their place, and this pain was in his broken arm now which seemed to decide it would hang the opposite way from normal. 

He left the store quickly, running as the alarms blared, informing all he had not paid. No one hurried out of the store to stop him though, and others didn't attempt to so he slowed down after leaving the general area, now in downtown Derry, heading in the area of the police station. 

He walks with a purpose he does not know yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone ever read The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis? Absolutely beautiful, I read it last year but recently picked up a copy of it. Really deals with some heavy themes but I think Alex is a character we can all relate to, even if we would never kill anyone. And her willingness to do anything for her friends/family (dead)/boyfriend has me in tears. She reminds me of the main character in Split, if they ever make a movie out of that book I am so voting for her to play Alex!!


	12. Broken Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The detective ponders the case he has brought home and Eddie finds himself panicking in new living conditions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really tried to get some comfort going here, but it just turned into angst. I again started this chapter in different segments and connected them, but I think I did a better job with the tone changes and such this time. 
> 
> Also, its September right?? I get that it might be kinda hot but my town just got its first heat wave since 2015. It was 80, 90 degrees which everyone was totally unprepared for, so we all died in school today and did like no work. Not that I do much anyways, all I really work in is library, book and writing club and English class, which I guess is to be expected! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading!!

They had almost refused to talk to Eddie right away, and he was certain it was because of the broken arm. 

But he was stubborn too, so he lifted his chin and calmly told them that if he could not start talking then, he did not know if he would ever be able to. So after much grunting and mumbling, the police officers and detectives had calmed down and begrudgingly given into his demands. 

Now seated in what Eddie could only think of The Soft Room, with soft coloured walls, soft toys and soft furniture, the cop from the tv entered the room. 

~~~~~

Detective Valentine had never dealt with such strange of a case before. Sure, he had dealt with the serial killer murdering kids in Derry last year, but that had stopped suddenly and everyone had gone back to their lives uneasily, Valentine included. So when a disheveled looking boy waltzed in with a broken arm and said he was Eddie, he was startled. 

He hadn't expected the boy to come so soon, instead expecting to have to track him down himself. It threw him off his game for sure, because he hadn't expected the level of cunning and raw intelligence he detected in Eddie. True, the boy checked off 7 boxes out a possible 8 for an antisocial personality disorder, but really Valentine hadn't believed it. Now looking the boy straight in the eyes, watching him boredly swing his broken arm back and forth, he wasn't so sure. 

There was definitely an edge to the boy that Valentine had not expected, one that he usually got from being around intelligent and sadistic sociopaths. They were the lone wolves you had to look out for, the lone wolves who you had to shoot before they even caused harm. Because you knew it was coming, and it wouldn't be a small amount. These ones preferred to take others down with them as frequent as possible. 

To Detective Valentine, Eddie was a starved wolf finally released from the cramped cage he had been forced into. The boy's eye flashed up to meet his, room darkened so he could remove the sunglasses. 

Valentine cleared his throat as he sat in the chair directly across from his, pointedly ignoring the feral glint in his eye. “Eddie, it's very important to me that we get your story straight. Charges could be pressed against your - against Sonya, and we need your full account if that's to happen.” 

The boy leaned forward, head cocked. “And if I don't want to press charges against Sonya?” His mouth was pressed into a harsh grin, understanding that Valentine had been about to say his mother. He didn't rise to the bait in the boy's voice. Eddie may be a startling case, but he was a little boy with more than a bit of a quaver in his hoarse voice. 

“Tell me how you got the bruises on your neck, Eddie.” He said instead, quiet but firm. And just like Valentine suspected it would, the mask crumbled in the confusion, tears rising quickly and face heating. “Does it really matter?” He said back, just as quiet. 

Valentine leaned forward also, trying to show Eddie just how sincere and empathetic he was. Because he was, truly. The kid had been through a Hell no child deserved, endured abuse no one should ever have to. Yes, the kid gave him the feeling of a wary guardian, but the most important part of that feeling was guardian. He was the guardian of Eddie now, for best or worst. 

“It may, it may not. But I bet talking about it might feel good.” He said. Because in the end it wouldn't matter. Sonya would be behind bars for criminal child abuse and neglect, Valentine would move onto the next case and Eddie...well Eddie would scarred and left to turn into a lone wolf who hunted his anger away. That's what would’ve happened if Valentine was only after the fame that came with closing cases. But something inside of him could not and would not allow him to play a part in breaking the boy's spirit into a predator mold. 

The boy hesitated, uncomfortable with the sincere attention from an adult and leaned back in the chair. “Maybe it would. But maybe it wouldn't.” He said, a mockery of what Valentine had said before. He sensed the boy had expected something very different, someone who would push him into a confession of something he didn't want to. So when faced with someone just wanting to talk things through, he was thrown off his game. Like the beaten dog who expects hurt when a hand offers a treat or tries to pet. And Valentine knew, just like a dog, Eddie would be put down when he finally decided to bite. 

And Valentine suspects the boy has bitten a hand before but gotten away with it, because his bite was poisonous, killing whoever bit before they could report it. He also suspected that hand might've hit the dog before. 

“Okay. We don't have to talk about it. Tell me Eddie, what do you want to talk about?” He asked instead, leaning back as well. He didn't want to come off as intimidating or too interested. Both would be seen as threats to the boy. 

Eddie rolled his eye, whole face portraying exasperated anger. “I'm not here to talk my feelings out, Mister. I'm here to clear my name!” He cried out, and winced when he jolted his broken arm. Valentine frowned also, but out of concern again. The boy might've insisted to talk first, but it was going nowhere helpful for either of them so far. Valentine would've rather talked to him after getting his arm in a cast. 

“You don't need to clear your name of anything Eddie. So if you want to talk about anything else, let's talk. I'm here for your benefit. I've taken some psychology, but I can't claim to no much. But I listen well.” He said earnestly, and immediately wished he hadn't. Eddie recoiled, frightened expression on his face. He had been offered the treat and was either going to run or bite, Valentine knew it. 

“No. No, no, no. I'm out, I don't want to talk anymore.” He said automatically, backpedaling from the treat. And in a way, Valentine was glad. He would have hated to put down such a young dog who only bit when it was scared. 

“Okay, that's perfectly valid. You'll be going to the hospital now, your arm needs to be set.” He advised, getting up and dusting the seat. He heard the boy hesitate, stand up uncertainly. 

“Will I spend the night in the hospital?” He asked, and there was such a fearful note in his voice that Valentine was tempted to turn around and hug him tight. But he knew that would warrant a bite, and he was certain that the information he was about to give would not sit well with the boy. So he instead just turned to face Eddie and give him a reassuring smile. 

“No, Eddie. You'll be spending the night at my house for a bit, until we can think of a more permanent place for you to stay.”

~~~~~

The boy looked uncomfortable and annoyed the next time Valentine saw him, a stiff looking cast on the broken arm and too long scratchy cotton pajamas covering his body. Real medical bandages had covered the patches where necrosis ate the skin away, and prescription sunglasses perched on his face. Valentine stifled laughter as he watched the boy impatiently wait for him. He looked like a normal irritated boy waiting for his parents. 

Valentine walked into the room, quiet as always but loud enough for the boy to hear. He perked up slightly, face vaguely more relaxed. “Can my friends come visit me?” He asked eagerly, but he didn't appear too hopeful when Valentine sighed. 

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, I promise okay?” He said, leading the boy out of the hospital ward and into the lobby. Glancing, he saw with surprise that Eddie had stopped following quite a bit back, instead staring out the window with a look of fear. 

“Eddie?” He asked quietly, not touching, but standing next to him instead. The boy gulped and turned to Valentine, expression scared. 

“A clown. I swear...I saw a clown. Scary one.” He said simply, leaning in slightly for comfort. Tempted to hug him once again, Valentine fought the urge but looked out the window to scan for a clown. The mention gave him chills, reminding him of some other crime. But what? Who had mentioned 

(We just pushed him over I swear it was the clown who bit him ripped that queer to fucking shreds, not us not us but a clown with crazed eyes even his homo friend saw it ask that guy a clown) 

a clown? It rested uneasily in his head, demanding to be answered in a way only detectives understand. They had a drive that would not allow them to take any pleasure in anything till the question was answered, till the Whodunit was solved. Till the case was closed, and even after that sometimes they couldn't take pleasure in anything because they were haunted by those still damned. 

But Detective Valentine pushed and strained till the thoughts were gone and instead put a hand quickly on Eddie's shoulder. 

“Just someone playing a joke, Eddie.” He said reassuringly as the boy shoved his hand off. 

And It was a joke alright, just not a very funny one. 

~~~~~~

They had fell into a silence when they reached his home, Eddie staying in his designated room and not coming out once. Valentine waited downstairs, sure the boy would come down at some point. He wasn't going to interrogate the fragile boy, but he did want to keep a close eye on him. For now he was the keeper of a feral wolf uneasy and unused to everything that was not painful. Those type were apt to run, not liking a new cage after getting a taste of the wild and sheep to hunt, even if the new cage was comfortable and the keeper kind and generous. Pet food would never taste good to them once they had tasted blood. 

Valentine did not hold any illusions that Eddie had not tasted blood before. 

He heard the soft patter of footsteps first and was grateful he had decided to wait a bit longer to see if Eddie would become curious enough to venture downstairs. He was also grateful that he had kept the lights off, aware how sensitive Eddie was to the light. Even though it would take days for the lab tests to return with a clear prognosis on what afflicted him, Valentine was pretty certain it was an STI he had been born with. The question was just which one it was. 

The boy padded quietly into the kitchen, and he was suddenly struck with a bizarre idea that the boy really was a wolf, had somehow transformed and became a creature searching for raw meat. And when he found none he would come and kill Valentine instead, eat his body happily. The images left when he heard the tap turn on lightly, water being caught by a cup. Eddie was only thirsty. 

He walked into the kitchen too, standing in the doorway casually and just keeping an eye on the boy. Just because he wasn't physically a wolf didn't mean he wasn't one. And just like a wolf, he tensed at the sight of another creature not in his pack, but pretended to not let it bother him. Instead he drank the water quickly but kept the glass gripped tightly in his hand. 

“What do you want?” He asked lowly, turning fully to look him in the eye. Valentine arched and eyebrow and shrugged noncommittally. Eddie was starting to shake lightly to his surprise, face turning redder and redder. He took a step back when he took a step forward, but had nowhere to go. Valentine reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately, the way a father might to his son. 

Eddie pushed him back forcefully, shouting out “NO!” Valentine stumbled back, surprised. He hadn't expected that, had just expected the boy to tense and turn away from him. He hadn't meant to startle him, meant the opposite actually. Meant to calm him down. 

“I'm sorry, Eddie. I didn't mean to scare you.” He said sincerely, but made no moves to leave. The boy was full on shaking, staring at him with such a volatile mix of hatred and terror that Valentine almost wanted to flee. But he stood his ground, face warm and unassuming. 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” The boy screamed and threw the glass at Valentine. He dodged it easily but kept his distance. Eddie was panicking, having a full on breakdown from just a bit of positive attention from an adult. Valentine's heart broke for the boy, wanting nothing more than to quietly pick him up and reassure him, tuck him in like a small child and guard over his restless sleep. But Eddie wasn't ready for so much positive attention, definitely not if he was having a panic attack over a reassuring hand on his head. 

“Eddie, please calm down. I understand you're scared and confused, and I'll leave if it will help. But you need to calm down.” Valentine said in the quiet but firm voice he used to show how genuine he felt. And Eddie seemed to listen to it for a moment, hands that had been wildly grabbing for more objects to throw at him stilling. His eye was closed painfully tight, tears leaking out of it and whole body shaking. 

And then he exploded, hands connecting with a glass that was whipped at Valentine immediately. He dodged it again, slightly worried and startled. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He screamed at him again, and when Valentine watched the boy heft up a heavy porcelain plate he stepped in, plucking it from his grasp and wrapping his limbs around the small boy. 

Eddie screamed again, kicking and thrashing violently, all making resounding thumps when they connected with the detectives body. He simply grunted, but didn't let go. It seemed to panic the boy further, kicking and thrashing harder. “LET GO!” He screamed, not caring about the arm wrapped in a cast. 

“Will you calm down? I'm sorry to invade your privacy, but you can't throw anything else Eddie. I'm serious.” Valentine said lowly but not unkindly. After a long moment of tears and panting, the boy nodded slowly so Valentine let him go. Eddie slumped on the floor, sitting and just staring back at the detective. He stared back, uncertain what to do next. 

“You really don't want anything?” He asked quietly, mistrust marring his features. He was still in a defensive position, fists coiled and body twisted away as much as possible. 

Valentine bent down, still keeping his distance though. “I want a cat someday Eddie. But if you mean if I want anything from you, I don't. I truly don't want anything but for you to feel safe around me.” He said, and smiled a bit when he saw Eddie roll his eye at the cat bit. 

“I was just defending myself. I didn't mean to throw your stuff.” He said quietly and Valentine knew it was Eddie's way of apologising, so he took it with a smile and nod.  
“No harm done, Eddie.” He said back, and stood up. As much as he wanted to bend down and comfort the boy, he wouldn't take it. It would just set off another bout of panic and anger. 

And Valentine knew to never get in the face of a cornered animal. 

~~~~~

It was much later at night when Eddie finally worked up the courage to open the bedroom door next to his and sneak in. As much as he distrusted the adult, with his funny words and stupid name, he felt like he wouldn't be stabbed in the middle of the night in his room. He would in fact probably try to save him from a stabbing. 

In his own room, left to defend himself, Eddie wasn't quite so sure what would happen. That clown had not been a prank or joke. It had been evil incarnate and It had invited Eddie to run with him. It was the older and stronger wolf that had his mother had been worried would tempt Eddie. 

And it did. It really did. 

The clown seemed to know this too, beckoning him closer, beckoning him outside. Join a real wolf pack Eddie, It seemed to say. Stop protecting the sheep that are scared of you. But It also terrified him, the way Its eyes twinkled but with no light, smile stretched grotesquely wide. If that was what a real wolf pack was like, than Eddie wasn't a real wolf. 

He opened the door as quietly as possible but knew instantly that Valentine knew he was in there, senses sharpened from years as a cop or detective or whatever. But he couldn't turn back now, so instead Eddie stepped in and kept the door open behind him. To run in case of an emergency. 

He crawled sleepily onto the foot of the bed, feeling around blindly for space. His hand connected briefly with the man's foot and he jerked it back as if he had been burned. Valentine made no movements to encourage or discourage him, instead allowing the choice whether to stay or not be his own. 

He really enjoyed it in a visceral way, being able to decide such tiny little things such as whether he slept in his own room or somewhere else. The man, so far, hadn't forced anything onto him. But it was only day one, so Eddie remained wary. The man may sense a wolf inside of Eddie, but he would not allow him to see how deeply it sank in him. 

He curled up uncertainly, hand inches away from the blanketed foot. He had curled his body around the man's body, the way a dog might. 

Eddie slept soundly all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll give you one guess as to what detective Valentine's first name is lol


	13. Canis Dirus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie experiences an exhilarating day of brief reunions and revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is surprising early?? I know my note said the chapter would be late but when I checked the chapter I was pleasantly surprised to see I had actually written around 1,300 words of it last night and well all I really had to do was fit the pieces together! Im sorry if it this isn't the best though, my heat addled mind was very sluggish and disoriented. The state I live in is known for having extremely cold winters and mild summers, so this heatwave has really messed with a lot of us. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Eddie was running. It felt wonderful, the soft earth underneath his feet clinging and trying to pull him down into it. The fun was in escaping from its grasp on his body. 

Others ran behind him, all six running and laughing and following the trail he had created for them. And he felt confident that they had no idea that he had made this trail or that he was even ahead of them. They thought he was limping well behind, still too injured to run and catch up. They were wrong, for his legs were strong and fit, his lungs pushing the oxygen out steadily and his heart beating at all the right moments. 

They were the ones who were too slow, and with that thought Eddie heard a scream rip through the air. When he turned he saw that wolves had cornered the six, a whole pack with various statures and shades of fur. They were a pack of loners, and he knew exactly who led them. It was in the shadows of the forest, baying for blood like the rest but letting the weaker wolves have first taste. Because in the end, they would all be Its. 

Eddie stumbled slightly, watching the wolves jeer and scare his family. His friends. His sheep. His to protect. So he went to them fearlessly, no hesitation and barrelled straight into the nearest wolf. He bit its throat out quickly, letting the blood spurt out and he bit again and again. There was no mistake this time, the wolf had submitted after the first bite but still Eddie continued on. 

Once he had gotten his fill, Eddie rose and found the forest quiet and empty. They had stolen his family when he had been preoccupied with his killing. 

He ran quickly and erratically, fear growing in his heart and whole body and his mind. Fear everywhere because it had taken so long to jimmy the lock on his cage and he WOULD NOT GO BACK NEVER BACK TO THE HELL THAT AWAITED HIM- 

He stopped when he came to a wolf dragging one of his flock in his teeth. He studied the situation for a moment, then lept up and over, knocking the wolf into the ground in a surprised mound of fur, teeth and anger. Eddie had scissors suddenly, clenched tightly in his right hand so he held the wolf down with his body, shoved its head down with his left hand and raised the scissors high ready to plunge them into soft fur and flesh and he brought them down now- 

Red. 

~~~~~~~

Eddie awoke with a start, gripping the blanket tightly and pulling it slightly to him. He wondered briefly where exactly he was, lying in such a strange position with no blanket or pillow. And then he felt something nudge his fist and remembered where he was and who detective Valentine was. He took a deep breath, and raised his head slightly to see if the man was awake. 

He was, face still open as last night. He stared back but not unkindly, as if he was inviting the boy to crawl up and be held if he so desired. Eddie did a bit, but more so by Richie. He missed the boy more than he would ever let on but it was getting to him. 

There was a moment of silence, until Eddie cleared his throat and said, “A man strangled me because I wanted to know more about my past.” He touched the bruises a little self consciously but did not press on them. 

Valentine nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “You like pancakes or waffles better?” he asked casually and Eddie was silent for a moment. Actually I would prefer raw meat if you have it sir, as I do not crave either, he thought wryly. 

“Waffles.” He said, and he had a feeling Valentine knew exactly what he had been thinking. 

The man smiled at him and got up quickly. “I took the liberty of getting some clothing for you yesterday. Unfortunately it's all a bit big for you I think, but it will do for now.” With that he was walking out of the room, but paused and turned back momentarily. 

“Oh, and your friends are waiting for you outside.” 

~~~~~~  
Eddie had rushed into his clothes and ran past Valentine downstairs, no apologies or anything. He swung the door open as fast as he could, totally ignoring his cast and ran out. 

The Losers started, having been turned away from the house but when they looked back they smiled. 

“EDDIE!” Richie shouted and ran to him. Eddie shouted back something, running as well and they knocked into each other, landing on the ground with a thud as the rest of the Losers caught up. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie tightly and started to sob. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Eddie, oh God!” The taller boy sobbed and Eddie rocked gently with him on the ground, squished in his embrace. 

“It's okay Richie, please, it's okay. I love you.” He whispered to him, and it seemed to calm Richie down enough to turn the sobs into hiccups and the intense hug into a more comfortable one. They sat there, just being with the other for what felt like the first time in a long time.

They pulled away, sitting on the gravel driveway. The rest of the Losers had been pointedly not staring, all slightly embarrassed but happy. It was good to have the family back, Eddie thought. It was better to have everyone happy. 

Richie stumbled to his feet and offered a hand to Eddie, who took it gratefully and stood up. Bill turned to him, face serious and contemplative. “Eh-Eddie, I am r-ruh-really so-so-sorry.” He said, ready to continue. 

“Bill. Stop right there. I don't want any of you to apologise, because I think you did the right thing. So shut up and tell me what happened.” He said seriously, and Bill did just that, sad smile on his face. 

“Yuh-you r-r-remind me su-so mu-much of h-him.” He said quietly, and Eddie understood this time. The younger brother, the one who was dead. Eddie was the replacement in a way, the new younger brother to protect and watch over. He would allow Bill to believe that he was, because it terrified him to think of his family's reaction to the one inside him who killed. He was terrified he would kill them if they rejected him. 

“We went to the store to see if that guy really was a pervert.” Ben said, eager to change the subject. Eddie narrowed his eye behind the sunglasses, the thought making him uncomfortable. If anyone got hurt...

“And he was.” Stan added, face turning slightly red. Eddie started and looked up at the boy. Had he been hurt? Had the man done something so bad they couldn't talk about it? Did Eddie have someone to hunt so soon? 

“What happened, Stan?” He asked curiously, anger already beginning to flow in his body. He would not allow anyone else to be hurt by another wolf. This time he would slaughter the whole fucking town if he had to. 

“He was disgusting.” Stan said angrily, a reaction that startled him. Out of all of them, Eddie had always seen Stan as the calmest one capable of soothing anyone out of a panic. So to see him so distraught, face red and voice wavering, it scared him. It meant something really bad had been said to the boy. 

And in an instant Eddie knew, the one being dragged away by the wolf in his dream had been Stan, the wolf the cashier.

He turned solemnly to the boy, and imagined disentangling him from the jaws of the wolf. Bringing the scissors up and killing it, another gone without any tears shed. 

“Don't worry about him anymore, Stan.” He said simply, and the conversation moved on but not Eddie. He was there, tucked away in Richie's embrace which he was very grateful for, but his mind was prowling. Baying for blood. 

Eddie began planning his kill as he smiled up at Richie. 

~~~~~~  
The memory persisted all throughout his midnight walk to the store. Valentine was asleep, he had made sure of it, sleeping curled up again till his breathing finally evened out. Eddie rose silently then, padding down the stairs and unlocking the front door quietly. He left it closed though, an illusion of safety. 

Stan’s face, cold and scared as he forced himself to speak was on loop in his mind. Stan, the one the other wolf had almost dragged away. Others would've just been relieved to have his family still whole, but not Eddie. He had just gotten them back and already someone tries to harm one. 

So he made his way to the store fast and purposeful, intent on silencing the wolf inside right then and there. Eddie knew another kill was inevitable, and after the dream last night he had no uncertain thoughts. The second slaying would occur that night, in that store. With scissors, as the dream prophesied. 

So when Eddie got inside, he merely smiled at the cashier who appeared very irritated at the interruption. The man glanced back down at the book in front of him, so Eddie walked into the crafting isle once again and unwrapped the scissors. The weight still felt right in his hands and once again he thought of his father. There was almost no doubt in his mind that he had been feral too, foaming at the teeth for blood and bone.

Only difference, he had probably killed randomly. Eddie was different. He was better. He protected people, protected his family and others who could've been victimised. 

This was how Eddie killed someone, and he was not sorry. 

He walked up to the counter, standing about a foot away. If his plan was to work, he would need enough force to knock the man to the ground. 

“These are mine.” He said, a mimic of what he had said days before. The man looked visibly annoyed now, but didn't say anything. Instead he looked down at his paperback and Eddie struck, vaulting over the counter and bringing the man to the ground. 

“What did you say to Stan?” He asked calmly, face clouded by the sunglasses and bandages. The cashier was out of breath, stunned and shocked by the sudden change of events. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it quickly, seeing Eddie raised the scissors high. 

“It really doesn't matter, but I'm curious.” He continued, head cocked and eyebrows drawn high. The cashier let out a weak moan, Eddies bony limbs pressing harshly all over his body. His head was propped to the side, held in place by Eddies left hand. 

Eddie cocked his head again, more intensely. “Hmm? No answer? That's okay too. You're gonna die either way.” The man let out a high scream now and said, “GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME YOU LITTLE BITCH!” 

Eddie raised his left hand momentarily, annoyed at him, and punched the man in the face as hard as possible. “That's not very nice, Mister.” He said, feeling the crunch of his nose.

He moaned, but this time it was thick and choppy as blood started to pour down his mouth. Eddie tsked and narrowed his eye. “You never should've given me that change, you pervert.” He hissed, anger beginning to course where only ice had previously existed. 

He raised them high just like his dream, adrenaline escaping his system and only pure rage left. The man screamed, high and pitiful. 

Eddie brought the scissors down. 

They thunked in the man's neck harshly, and he almost immediately went still and quiet, in shock and pain rather than death. But he would die soon, bleeding out on the floor. Eddie wrenched the scissors free, letting the blood flow faster and harsher for a moment before stabbing him again, and again and again in the neck till he was silent and still but still he stabbed. 

“YOU HURT MY FAMILY!” He screamed now, still stabbing in the memory of Stan's face. How dare this man attempt anything, say anything, even look at his flock? They were his sheep to protect, and even an appreciative yip from another wolf would be silenced.

This wolf does not wait for others to fuck with them, Eddie thought and brought the scissors down for a final time. 

~~~~~

Eddie had gotten in late, the clean up taking longer than he thought it was. He traipsed into the house and saw it was all dark. But a figure was sitting the kitchen, someone who could clearly see the blood on his face and clothes. He had cleaned up everything but himself, like a predator proud of his deed. 

Eddie bowed his head, walked into the kitchen and sat at the table on the far side of it with the man. 

“I killed someone bad.” Eddie said grimly, and spun the scissors on the table to Valentine. He was silent for a moment, both sitting in the darkened kitchen, just listening to the other breathing. 

“Okay.” Valentine said finally, standing up and turning the kitchen faucet on. “Go take a shower and throw those clothes in the hamper, they're too big for you anyways.” He ran the scissors under the water, getting the blood and chunks of flesh off of it. 

Eddie was stunned, mouth agape and unable to move. “But-” He started, but broke it off. No sense questioning it when the man was willing to overlook the killing. Valentine turned to him, one eyebrow raised and small smile on his face. 

“Every now and then I would say having a vigilante wolf isn't bad. In fact, Eddie, this detective appreciates it.” He said it as casually as when he had asked of he preferred pancakes or waffles. “And when this wolf is feeling dangerously angry and needs an outlet, I bet he'll be able to find some more bad people in a certain detectives study. I bet there's even a file marked with the words ‘Canis Dirus.’” 

Eddie could only stare for a few moments, before shaking out of it and leaning forward with some interest. He knew what canis lupus meant, which was wolf or the common grey wolf. But Canis Dirus sounded more deadly, like a stronger and faster version of the common wolves that stalked the small town of Derry. 

“What does Canis Dirus mean, Valentine?” He asked curiously. The man turned, grinning in a way that was somehow smug and humble at the same time. 

“A dire wolf, Eddie.” He said calmly, and laughed when the boy cocked his face in confusion. He walked closer to him, put his hands on the table and leaned in closer to whisper. 

“They were thought to be extinct. They were as big as the largest grey wolves nowadays, with bigger teeth. And they had the strongest biting strength of any wolf before them and any after. They were the wolves that hunted other wolves easily.” Valentine said with a knowing glee that was infectious. Eddie smiled too, even though he didn't exactly know where it was leading. But he had a clue, and if he was right, than he and Valentine would get along better than he assumed they would at first. 

“And you Eddie,” his eyes appeared to sparkle this close, “seem to have proven that dire wolves aren't extinct just yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone ever seen First They Killed My Father? Its pretty good, we're watching it in my Civics class of all places. But when the heat starts boiling everyone in my town we usually end up doing almost no work.


	14. Hemophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie confronts Eddie and Eddie is shocked with a sudden reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. I expected to finally finally finally get to some fluff but I just can't seem to write it! Everytime I try, Eddie has a mental break down or someone dies. It was again, extremely hot here but thankfully a more respectable 50° will be amongst us tomorrow. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Richie had turned the tv off immediately after the news report, no longer hungry for breakfast. The cashier was dead, stabbed violently in the neck 5 to 10 times. No suspects yet, the police said. No evidence, they said. 

Richie however, had a suspect. 

He tried not to think about it, tried not to think about what would happen if Eddie had actually killed the man. He remembered yesterday, Eddie telling Stan not to worry about him anymore. He had been so caught up in getting to be with him it had flown past his head. 

He brought his plate up to the sink and washed it silently, contemplating. Did he confront him? Richie told himself that even if the boy really had killed the man, he would never admit it to Richie. 

But what if he did?

“Mom, Dad! I'm going out!” He called out to the house. His parents were somewhere, most likely still trying to wrap their heads around what had happened. The media had been going crazy, the story blowing up all over New England. Sonya was in custody, awaiting a hearing for bail to be set. Richie hoped with a venom he usually did not wield that it was too high for her. 

When he got no response, Richie opened the front door and ran outside, hopping on his bike. He biked to the detective's house, having memorized it as soon as he heard where Eddie was. So far, the media had been kind enough to stay away from Valentine's house, half out of respect and half out of fear of the detectives retaliation. But as he biked quickly to the house, he saw camera crews and a dozen reporters all at the end of the driveway. They seemed like little children to Richie, each daring each other to go on up and touch the front of the house. 

When he biked past them they shouted questions, mostly about Eddie and what happened to him. He ignored it, and dismounted quickly, before running up and knocking on the door. 

Eddie opened it almost immediately, happy expression on his face, and Richie almost immediately felt his anger and questions dissipate. If there was a version of Eddie who killed people, then he did a damn good job of hiding it. 

“Richie!” He cried out softly, and stepped forward with his arms out. Unable to say no, Richie immediately hugged the smaller boy and held him close. If only they could stay like that forever, embraced and entwined and wholly in their own world. Richie didn't know if he even really cared if Eddie had killed the cashier anymore, instead more curious now. He just wanted the truth. 

The click of multiple cameras startled him out of the embrace, instead just simply holding the boy's arms. Eddie beamed up at him, and Richie felt his mouth open. 

“Did you kill the cashier?” He heard himself ask, and he watched with horror as the happy expression completely obliterated itself from Eddie's face. He looked stunned and terrified, but not at the thought of him doing it. More so at the accusation and the ramifications that might follow. 

Richie gasped, but kept himself still in the memory of the media right behind him. Eddie jerked away for a moment, standing in the doorway of the house. 

“Come inside.” He whispered, and something in Richie sent red alarms blaring. If he stepped into this house, would Eddie just get rid of him too? Decide to tie up a loose end? He might not have a clear idea on what exactly was wrong with Eddie if he was killing people, but Richie remembered what the detective had said. 

Antisocial personality disorder. He had looked it up at the library, staying with Ben till it had closed at 10. They had discovered that people with antisocial personality disorder were prone to anger, impulsivity and became bored easily. Most did fit Eddie, if Richie was being honest. 

But one look at the small boy in front of him, one arm in a cast and bony limbs convinced him that even if Eddie did plan to kill him, Richie would be able to defend himself. He ignored the thought asking him how he was supposed to live if a full grown man had died at this boys hand.

Once he stepped inside, Eddie shut the door with a bang and seemed to blink back tears. “Are you gonna leave if I did?” He asked quietly, face pale with fear. 

Richie stared at him, unable to answer. Would he? Could he, fully knowing if Eddie had done this, still be able to hold the smaller boy, kiss him, hold his hand and not feel any apprehension. But if he left would he be able to cope without him? 

“No. I just want to know.” He said back just as quiet, because it was the truth. A part of him knew that if Eddie had done it, he had killed someone bad. Had protected the Losers and other children, probably stopped a handful of childhoods being ruined. Probably brought justice for dozens. 

Eddie took a shaky breath, and took his sunglasses off. He stared at Richie with one wide eye and said, “I killed him. I killed him last night with a pair of scissors.” 

Richie nodded. He had known, had known it was Eddie the moment they ran the story. Had known this would happen, someone else would die the moment he had smelled smoke. He wondered if part of his fear of Eddie that first night was because a part of him had known. Had seen some beastly quality in the boy, even as his voice quavered and his body shrank away from them. 

The boy was a killer just waiting to be set free. 

So he nodded and Eddie cried, in shock or relief he did not know. Two parts of himself raged, the one who was disgusted and the part that was quietly impressed. He and the Losers had faced evil before, but not like this. Not in such a way where the problem was eliminated fully. 

“But, never again.” Richie warned, standing stock still. Eddie hiccuped and looked at him, wiping the tears off his face. He nodded too and finally he allowed himself to move, to hold the smaller boy and cry along with him. 

“Never again.” Eddie sobbed into his shoulder, and Richie felt his own tears rapidly multiply. 

He cried because he knew it was not true. 

~~~~~~

Eddie was not sorry he had killed, he was only sorry of the consequences it had brought. He had promised Richie, one of the only people who mattered in his life and certainly the most important, that he would never kill again. He knew and believed that Richie knew it was a lie.

Someday another wolf would reveal itself and Eddie would dispatch himself, slaughtering it before any harm could come to anyone else. Or he would get curious enough to look in the Canis Dirus, read the sins of his fellow predators and work himself into a rage. Then, he would kill. 

And while the adults would be blinded, searching frantically for an adult, the children would know. It had been a day since the t.v. coverage, since Richie confronted him, and already they knew. 

They left gifts on the doorstep, flowers and broken necklaces. Remnants from a childhood stolen. Dozens left notes about the cashier, ones that made him sick with anger and grief. He did not regret the murder, only how easy he went. One had gone so far to leave children's underpants, cute designs and all. They had taken an angry red marker to them, THANK YOU written on the front. 

When Eddie had picked them up and turned them over, they read I WAS TWELVE on the back. He threw them away immediately. 

Soon more and more arrived, children of Derry clamoring for a hero. They had known, perhaps one had seen him walking home, put two and two together and told their friends. The rumour spread fast, and soon all of them knew. Knew a wolf was here, not to hurt but to protect. 

Soon Eddie would place a sign near the front door with the simple words GIVE ME A NAME AND I SHALL SEEK etched on it. But not yet, his promise to Richie still heavy in his chest. 

He was laying on the couch, reading another note when the doorbell rang. Valentine raised an eyebrow and looked at him. He was not pleased with the gifts, but his displeasure was not spoken aloud. Eddie knew he was just worried that adults would catch wind next, show up as an angry mob. Or perhaps to gawk. Dire wolves were thought to be extinct, after all. 

“The front door, Eddie.” He said smoothly and went back to reading. Eddie twisted his face, ready to respond but didn't. If it was some kid looking to meet him, he didn't want Valentine to show up first. 

He walked angrily to the door, annoyed at the interruption of the morning. Only a day and already people were bothering him. 

Eddie opened the front door blearily, irritated that Valentine had asked him to. He glanced up at the man and immediately tensed, the presence of another wolf picked up. The man felt it too, but instead smiled down at the boy. 

“Hello Eddie.” He said, taking a step forward. He had put himself in the doorway, making Eddie unable to close the door. He could not say anything for a couple moments, instead staring up at the man through his sunglasses. How did he know his name? Did this wolf know just exactly who had been killing off their population? 

“Hey now, no need to act so surprised. I admit, I was leery of showing up after you burned the house down. Not a whole lot of us do that.” He said amicably, taking another small step forward. Eddie backed up, desperate to scream to Valentine but his throat suddenly tightened up, unable to do anything but shake his head frantically. 

“Not me!” He croaked out, sticking to his story. With Valentine, it was okay to admit what he had done. Because he understood. Valentine might not be a wolf, but he was a keeper who instead of forcing the boy into a cage, offered him freedom, and an outlet for his anger. But this man, who just showed up and was smiling at him and talking as if they knew each other well, it make his hackles raise. 

“But after that cashier, and with your mother in jail, I knew that you turned out right. I was worried for awhile, it seemed like you would never get on it!” The man laughed, ignoring what Eddie had said. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and bent down a bit to be more at his level. 

“So now here we are. Do you still not know who I am?” He asked curiously, head cocked in a fashion that reminded Eddie of himself. In fact, a lot of things about the man reminded him of himself. He had the same brown hair, shorter than Eddie's but hanging wherever it wanted like his own. They had the same pale, narrow face, with wide eye(s). And of course, the feral quality was present in both of them. This man just exuded it much more, with a large overcoat hanging past his knees and scars crisscrossing everywhere on his face. 

“Dad?” Eddie asked, and felt a rush of ice fill his whole body when the man broke into a wider smile and nodded excitedly. 

“Bit of a shock, eh? I almost stayed around for your first birthday but by then your mother had gone full batshit crazy. So I bounced. But I'm back now!” He said, still with that wide grin. As much fear as Eddie felt, anger was starting to rush back into his body, nice and hot. If this really was his dad, he had no right to come and just expect things to just be normal. 

He had done this to Eddie, filled him with blood that ran hot when it should cold, forced him into the role of wolf. But he was certain he didn't know that Eddie was no ordinary wolf, expected that he was just as crazy as the rest of them. He wasn't, he was better, a better wolf who hunted the evil ones. 

He curled his hands into fists and glared up at the man. “What do you want?” He demanded, and took a step of his own. The man didn't take a step back, but his grin was more uneasy, if just for a moment. 

“Why, to be a family again! We can travel all over America Eddie, that's what I do! Out there you don't worry about picking and choosing carefully son, you just pick and choose and blam! Another vagrant dead!” He smiled wildly again, this time taking a step back to the door. Eddie followed, hands still in fists. This man, this monster, was just like the rest of them. Destroying just to destroy. His chaos was unorganised and choppy, whilst Eddie had brought order to his own. 

“I'm not going anywhere with you, even if you are my dad.” He said harshly, and reached for the door. The man stopped it with one arm and pulled the other hand out of his coat, aiming the gun in his hand directly at Eddie. 

“Watch it, Eddie.” He said softly, face solemn now. “I don't mind disciplining you, and I can guarantee you won't like it. You've already got holes in your body I've heard, wouldn't want to add to it, eh?” 

All the anger inside of him dissipated at the sight of the handgun aimed solely at him. He was scared now, more terrified than even when Richie had confronted him. 

“What do you want?” He asked quietly, unable to raise his voice past a whisper. He felt his legs start to shake, felt himself cringing away from the man who started smiling again. 

“To raise you the way you should be raised, Eddie.” His smile was incredibly wide now, and Eddie numbly thought back to the clown. 

“And that is?” He heard himself ask even as he was looking for an opportunity to run. The man looked like his face had been cut in half, teeth placed where the wound is. 

“Like a wolf, Eddie. Like a god damn wolf who rips throats out for fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was completely inspired by The Female of the Species with the people leaving gifts for Eddie!
> 
> *SPOILER ALERT*
> 
> When Alex dies in the end and Peekay is cleaning her grave and finds the underwear with I WAS FOURTEEN written on them I just lost my shit right in the middle of class. Or when Peekay and Sarah were reading the graffiti in the bathrooms I was so choked up, I'm choking up just thinking about it oh God


	15. Skinned Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine steps in, Eddie takes a tour of the Derry High School and wakes up from sleepwalking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not the best, it was not the best day. Had a long test in AP history, and just not generally got along with my sister and dad. Also shorter than usual for the exact same reason, and beginning def seems like a cop out even to myself. But I actually quite like the ending so thank God for small miracles eh? 
> 
> Anyways, Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Valentine was listening to the quiet murmur of voices, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. He could hear how one of the voices was deeper, the voice of a full grown man. 

He heard the unusual silence from Eddie and got up swiftly, heading to the door. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight, a tall, thin man pointing a gun at the trembling boy in front of him. 

“Hello.” He said calmly, and walked right up to the man. He had a couple inches on him, and the shocked expression on his face was priceless to Valentine. It wasn't often a wolf was in fear of him. 

The boy finally seemed to find his footing, darting behind him. He clung desperately to his back, little fists digging into his spine. The man put the gun away slowly and let out a low chuckle, shock and fear gone. 

“Hey pal, me and my kid were just talking.” He said casually. And it was true, that Valentine could already tell. They looked very similar, both with the same crazy hair and face and feral nature. But Valentine pushed past the unbelievable quality of it. When you doubted something as a detective, people ended up dead. And usually, you were one of them. 

“How pleasant. But unfortunately we aren't taking visitors today.” He said back smoothly, hand already on the doorknob. The man smiled but did not make an attempt to block the door. 

“That's fine, I'll come back some other time. Or maybe not a house visit. But I'll definitely be seeing you around Eddie.” And with that he walked off, quick down the driveway and slower once he was just on the street. Valentine slammed the door, making sure to lock it and turned to the fearful child behind him. 

“I'm going to teach you how to use a gun.” He said calmly, and rested a gentle hand on his back. Eddie shivered at the contact but did not move, allowing it to rest there. 

“A gun? To hunt with?” He asked. Valentine nodded grimly, the man still fresh in his mind. He would attempt to hurt Eddie now, kidnap him. And he was sure once Eddie resisted and fought back, he would have no trouble in killing him. 

“Lessons at night. We'll go into the woods and practice, not just with guns but other weapons. You need to be prepared, Eddie.” He said, and took his hand off of the boys back. He sniffled and nodded, wiping his eyes under the sunglasses. 

“Oh, and Eddie,” Valentine said as he was walking away, “We're going to Derry High School for a tour today. Don't want you nervous on the first day.” 

~~~~~~~

The whole process was getting more and more boring. Valentine had dragged Eddie to the school, promising it would be enjoyable. Instead both sat boredly across from a balding man, the principal of Derry High. He talked a lot and kept glancing at Eddie. 

“Of course we would love to have Eddie as a student here.” The principal said, a bit uncomfortable. Eddie sat back, unperturbed. He made adults uncomfortable all the time, and that was okay. As long as they didn't know where that feeling came from, it was fine. For all they cared it was because of his appearance. 

They had stepped into the hallway after, principal in the front and leading them both around. Eddie stepped into an open classroom curiously and looked around.

“Yes, we actually recently hired a new teacher. He has a great background with teaching, has actually taught all over the country!” The principal explained to Valentine. Eddie stepped into the classroom warily and looked around. 

It seemed normal enough, but the pungent smell of another predator seemed overwhelming to him. It was like an invisible whistle only dogs could hear, except it was a scent or feeling for the wolves.

And it hit Eddie hard, sent him careening back into a desk and closing his eye tight. It felt as if he focused hard enough he might be able to tell what crimes this wolf had committed, be able to see him, be able to be him. 

Eddie silently promised himself to never allow the Losers in the class without him. 

They left soon, the stench still in his nose though. They made their way to other classrooms, and none gave him the strong reaction that the new teachers had. His favourite place was the library, which gave off the exact opposite feeling of the classroom. 

Here was where lambs came to rest, protected by the wolves. A sanctuary where even the biggest and baddest were reduced to nothing more than mere prey. Even Eddie felt it happen, felt himself be stripped of his two kills, of the solemnity in which he held himself. This place was for the lambs, and you must be one to enter. 

The principal was still talking, Valentine nodding along while looking increasingly bored. Eddie, who had felt the same way just moments ago, now felt fascinated. There was so many books, so much to choose from, so many different titles and authors and colors. 

He picked one up, one that had been on display on top of a short bookshelf. It was small and ragged looking, with a burnt book on the cover. 

“What's this about?” He asked suddenly and turned to the adults. The principal stopped talking and they both turned to him.

Valentine quirked his eyebrows and chuckled, before saying “It's about a future where firemen burn books, Eddie.” 

Eddie looked back at the book, fascinated and satisfied for just a moment. The title was confusing though, a jumble of words and numbers he didn't understand. “Then what's this title mean?” He asked. 

“Fahrenheit 451. That's the temperature it takes to burn a book Eddie. Any guesses on how hot to burn a building?” Valentine replied, a sarcastic but affectionate tone in his voice. He would never live that down, a single impulsive moment now imprinted on the minds of everyone he met it seemed. Even his dad had said something about it that morning, but Eddie quickly recanted the thought. He would not think of the man if he could help it. 

“I'm gonna read this.” He said simply, and the principal shrugged, but let him. They quickly finished the tour, as Eddie was only going to be a freshmen. The standard classes, which he was worried even then would be too challenging for him. He had never gone to school before, had had to figure out math and science on his own from books brought to him by his mother and packets with problems in them. 

His education had been most unusual, and it seemed like it would continue to be, if Valentine had been serious. School in the day and then training in the night. 

“School starts on the 30th, so make sure you have general school supplies before then.” The principal advised as they were leaving. Both raised a hand in acknowledgement, both bored and tired out by the whole trip. 

“We'll get that stuff later.” Valentine said once they had gotten into the car. Eddie nodded, not really caring. He would not be focused on school supplies or even school at first. 

He would be focused on getting another wolf out of his midst. 

~~~~~~~

The woods. 

He had been sleeping peacefully, or as peacefully as possible. Having another dream with the wolves, but this time there were two less. They were angry but also frightened. Dire wolves were known for killing other wolves, and they knew he was no different. 

But he had woken up when someone had interrupted the dream, a graceful deer that had darted in his way and he had instinctively reached out, grabbed it and- 

He was in the woods. His eye opened and was shocked to look around and not feel the blanket beneath him, not be curled up, not be watching Valentine's chest rise and fall gently. 

He was in a clearing to be exact, but the trees around him seemed to rustle with warnings and threats. Telling him to go. Telling him to run. He thought back to his dad and wondered if perhaps he had been kidnapped, had been brought to the woods as a lesson. 

He took an uneven step forward, his feet bare and aching. His arms were aching also, as if he had carried something for a long time. The one with the cast was screaming in protest. The moon was high in the night sky, and in brief intervals Eddie was able to see clearly all around. 

He took another step forward and his foot nudged something. He looked down and made to scream, but only a whimper escaped from his lips. There was a dead wolf at his feet, this one not a metaphor but an actual wolf, teeth still bared and throat torn open, like something had taken their teeth to it. The world went dark again if for but a moment as the trees swayed and hid the clearing. 

The next time the moon came back he looked around again, and close to the first wolf he found a second. The throat had been mutilated again, but this time it did not seem to be from teeth. 

The scissors nearby told him what had happened. 

His dream. Oh fuck, his dream where he had killed a wolf with his bare teeth and stabbed another in the next. He wondered about his thought that next morning when Valentine had asked if he liked pancakes or waffles more, his wry thought about fresh meat. Had he eaten some part of this wolf, forced the furry flesh of its throat down his own? 

He glanced back to where he had been standing and saw it. The deer. The graceful deer which was now on its back and heaving, eyes closed and awaiting death. Neck at the wrong angle, blood seeping from where it appeared someone had just pushed their hand through its sternum forcefully. Eddie had done it, he knew it, knew it in his soul and his heart and his head. He knew yet he still did not believe. 

The world went dark once again, great pines swaying and blotting his light out. They held malice for him, for destroying these creatures and walking its earth when he had no right. But the moment passed and the moon was back now. 

Eddie glanced down at his hands and screamed at the red that coated them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone ever play Don't Starve? For some reason in class I just had a lot of renewed interest in it for like no reason.


	16. Sore Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine awakes to a strange smell and Eddie contemplates his life as he prepares to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter due to it being Friday and having a lot of homework and stuff. Its getting to the end folks! At least the end of this story, but depending on which ending will be chosen I do have a sequel still all about Eddie thought up. It would be set during his first year of high school, and I would try and go back and answer any questions that were unanswered in the first fic. 
> 
> EDIT : okay that's a complete lie this fic will probably never end until I'm on my deathbed and go like oh shit time to end it I guess
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

The room has the smell of cold morning air as Valentine wakes up, and feels something curled up at his side. He stretched, looking to see it was Eddie, curled facing him and much closer now. Valentine felt mildly surprised, expecting it to take much longer for the boy to feel safe enough around him. 

He glanced down and noticed smudges on his feet, as if the boy had been walking in dirt. The coppery tang of blood is barely noticeable in the air, but as a detective Valentine had learned to be able to pick up on even the tiniest hint of blood. Eddie woke up, in tune to Valentine's own steady heartbeat. 

They laid there for a moment, neither speaking, until Eddie cleared his throat and spoke. 

“Show me the Canis Dirus folder. I'll go out tonight.” The boy sat up now, hair in his face. Valentine nodded wordlessly and got out of the bed, making his way downstairs. The file was in his study, tucked away under some legal files. 

After entering his study, he pulled it out silently and made his way back upstairs, where Eddie was now wide awake and had turned the lights on. His sunglasses set slightly askew on his face, and he was unreadable. 

Valentine opened the file up to a random page and nodded, handing it to Eddie. “Mr. Corcoran. Killed his young stepson.” He read aloud, and looked up to confirm it. 

Valentine nodded and said, “Child killer gets killed by a child. Fitting.” 

“Fitting.” Eddie echoed and closed the file, handing it back to him. He nodded too and laid back down. Valentine again noticed the dirt smeared on the boys feet, and the cold air smell. He had been sure he locked the windows last night, and looking out of it he noticed impressions in the dirt from what could have been a ladder. 

He mentioned none of this, instead asking, “How do you like your eggs, Eddie? 

~~~~~~

He threw another rock behind him blindly and continued to run into the forest. The man behind him screamed with anger, the same man from the Canis Dirus folder. Eddie had managed to trick him into the forest by throwing rock after rock at him, hitting him square on the face at several occasions. 

The words written ran through his head in a steady stream, the words bolded and underlined. Child Killer, Child Killer, Child Killer, he thought and ran deeper into the forest. The forest where he slept-walk and slept-killed. Where two wolves and a deer lay in some kind of animal torture field now, where Eddie unleashed himself at night if the killing of the day was not enough. 

He continued deeper into the forest with no weapon except for the rocks, the man gaining behind him. 

He didn't expect to survive the encounter, and maybe that was the whole point of this. He had killed two people, people he wouldn't ever really care about but those were human lives on his hand. And for what? The first did not bother him much because of the circumstances, but the second. Killed even though he did not fight back, stabbed more than once and left to bleed like a pig. 

The man caught up and grabbed him roughly by the shirt. Eddie went reeling, surprised but not scared. He faced the man calmly with his one eye and unbandaged face, and his thoughts now on Richie. He did not deserve the boy, he knew it. Richie deserved someone who didn't kill, who didn't feel so much anger and rage that he didn't know how to control it. 

This was how Eddie died and he was not scared of Death. 

But right as the man squinted, rage blinding him the same way it blinded Eddie, something threw itself at them and both went stumbling. Eddie crashed into a tree and kept himself there, heart suddenly pounding and blood rushing. Fuck, this was unexpected. 

And as the bear roared and picked the man up like a rag doll, Eddie screamed and found himself frozen in fear. Bear, bear bear. Did wolves ever defeat bears? It seemed not, the way the bear clawed at the man and opened him up like a chest, chewing hungrily at the treasure inside not being very promising. 

Eddie was prepared to die by a human's hand, but as the bear lifted it's narrow gaze to him, he found himself unable to cope with his mortality in the grips of this creature. It got on its hind legs and put two paws on the tree behind Eddie, close enough to hug. 

“Hello.” He whispered, frozen with fear. This is how Eddie dies and instead of accepting it like he felt he would, instead he was terrified. The bear sniffs him clumsily, nose brushing his neck. It bared its mouth at the boy and licked his face in a way that made Eddie feel like he was its next meal, even as the man lies bleeding out just mere feet away. 

Then the bear lowers itself to the ground, a rumble deep in its throat that is not unkind. Eddie feels his heart pick up a bit, though with confusion now. Was he going to die or not? The bear had torn through the man in no time, tearing his face to shreds and mutilating his body. Not that Eddie hadn't been planning the exact same thing. 

“Hello.” He said again, a bit louder. He peeled himself off of the tree and looked at the man with a big eye. He had killed 2 wolves and a deer in this very forest, and part of him expected everything in it to now despise him, to hunt him down if he ever attempted to enter again. And maybe that's what he wanted, some sort of noble suicide where he took out another wolf with him. 

But instead this bear simply tilts its head and turns around, ambling slowly as if expecting Eddie to follow. He is still frozen though, back glued to the tree and limbs still shaking. The bear huffed and turned its head back around, a bored look that seemed to say, You coming? 

Eddie took a step forward, legs still shaky but chin high. Yes, he answered. The bear simply turned and continued to lope through the woods, even as it dimmed and brightened with the waving of the pines and the dimming moon. Eddie followed it instinctively, footsteps matching exactly where the bear had landed. 

They walked, silent with only the tiniest crunch of the leaves. Into the clearing, where the dead animals rotted, pines whistling a soft, sweet tune to him. He recognised the man even before his face was visible. 

“Hi dad.” He said, and stopped at the clearing. The bear snorted, and turned heel, tromping back into the forest. It had merely been a scout, meant to bring the troops to the enemy line. Eddie was here now. 

The man's face was forlorn when the moon gently shone on it, all of the joking crazy gone. “It's our curse, son. The way a werewolf turns every full moon. Except we turn whenever we get angry.” He said sadly, and Eddie felt jolted. This man was not crazy. This man was saddened and ashamed of himself, of the blood on his hands. 

Eddie cried, tears falling from his eye. All this time, he had thought that strain of necrosis had rotted him, had left rotted parts where the skin simply gave up and left, turning organs into leathery bags of wind, left bones rotted and tinted yellow. Left his face marred and unlovable. The necrosis might have started it, yes, but Eddie realised it went deeper. 

The necrosis may have rotted his body, but his mind rotted far before that. It rotted when he was trapped in that attic, it rotted every time he screamed with anger. It rotted as he stabbed a man with a screwdriver, scissors, as he broke straight through a deer's sternum. 

“We all have a bit of it. Just us more than others. And when you give those fucking feelings up, all that rage and coldness, you realise nothing is left.” His father continued and Eddie stepped closer to the man, finding such understanding in each and every word. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither breathing or blinking or moving. 

“That day, with the gun. I half wanted to shoot you there and put you out of your misery. Because you can't go back to that fucking school, can't sit with the rest of the students and study Shakespeare, or learn angle bisectors.” His dad ranted and Eddie closed his eye. He half wished he had been shot, bled out right then and there before it could go any farther, before he had lured a man into the woods and watched the bear slaughter him. Before he had followed it to this moment. 

“Something in you has a taste of what it's like hunting monsters now and you can't sit and just do nothing anymore. Can't fill your head with useless information, talk about themes and tone and meaning. Because all you'll be able to think about is how you'll next kill someone.” 

“I only kill bad people.” Eddie said weakly, but knew it was futile. The two men he killed probably had families, had loved ones who screamed and children who would not understand why daddy wasn't home. Who could not comprehend that someone had judged them sinful and decided their lives be taken as punishment. 

“Yeah, okay fine. But how long till there are no more so called bad people for you to hunt? What about when you eye one of your friends doing something stupid and think they deserve to die?” His father said, and took a step closer to him. Eddie did not flinch, did not back up or run. He stood his ground and took what was being said. 

“Don't you think I was just like you?” His father whispered. “They say kids die around here every 26, 27 years. I know kids think it's some supernatural monster. Eddie, how old do you think I was once those killings started? How old were you?” He continued to ask.

“I didn't kill those children.” Eddie whispered, and all of the sudden he understood. He understood that he was being manipulated, not just by a father who wanted him to be just the same, but by Valentine to be his own little ruthless killing machine. Everywhere he went was another person trying to use his rage against him, not trying to help him over it. 

The pines swayed and his father took a step closer, pulled out something sharp and long. Eddie did not run. He stood his ground and felt the wind rustle through him, enter the hole in his chest and exit the hole in his face. 

“Don't you wanna die, Eddie?” Get it over with and just done?” He whispered, and the knife was closer now, almost touching him and gleaming wickedly. 

Eddie closed his eye again and shook his head once, throat die and tongue numb. He did not want to die. He had people to live for, six absolute Losers who took him in and helped him. Who held him when he cried and laughed when he laughed. This man, his father, was just off-guard and looking to bring solace to him. 

Yes, Eddie would sit through classes and long to be out of them, he would peek in the Canis Dirus folder and maybe even sneak out some nights. But he had made a promise to Richie. Never again. 

“Never again.” He whispered, and opened his eye to look at his father directly. But it was not his father now, instead a clown was in front of him with a too wide smile and tiny beady eyes. With grotesque clown makeup and a butcher's blade, blood spattered and rusty. 

“I almost had you, Eddie. Almost!” The clown said in a voice that went too high and too low. This time Eddie did take a step back, a scream reverberating through the forest. The clown. The clown from the hospital and the leper from before that, a house he had burned down to the ground and he admitted it to himself now, he burned it down because of that fucking leper- 

“Why you leavin’ now, Kaspbrak? The fun is just starting! Look at all the bodies you've got on you already!” The clown shrieked and Eddie turned, bolting into the black forest. He screamed frantically, his mind terror filled and fear riddled. 

He didn't want to die, didn't want to fucking die,he wanted to go to school wanted to see Richie wanted to never think about his fucking past ever ever ever again- 

He tripped over something that roared and he fell hard, something twisting unnaturally in his left ankle. The wind was pushed out of him in one fell swoop, up and out and he couldn't suck a breath in for the life of him. It was gone.  
He felt the presence when it showed up in front of him, the clown now a gigantic wolf with a blood painted clown nose and ripped throat. It smiled keenly down at him, and a harsh howling sound filled the air around him. 

Eddie closed his eye again and prepared to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone seen the new Geralds Game movie on Netflix yet? I was p surprised by how much I liked it, and was def inspired by some of it. Just, some of the ideas are like really really dark and I don't want to add anything quite like it. This fic is already dark enough!


	17. Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie awakes to a strange new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its a bit late, me my sister and my dad all played a board game and it was Monopoly so you know how long that took. 
> 
> Thought it was Sunday all day and was so happy to hear it wasn't ahhh 
> 
> This is a bit of a strange chapter, it was inspired by what Beverly says in the book/movie(s) about what she sees. 
> 
> Based Richies looks off of 2017 movie, only bc I didn't wanna confuse anyone. I adore the film and think the casting was excellent, but my Richie will always have bright blue eyes and shaggy light brown hair. I always saw Eddie having blond hair that was Credence Barebone style, but if it was a bit more grown out. Like Coconut Head style lol. 2017 Eddie was a lot better than my image tho 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!!

When he woke up, he had a splitting headache. Eddie felt around groggily for Valentine, expecting to find his foot or side right next to him. His hands stopped when his hand met bare, warm skin, and realised he was under the blanket. His eye snapped open immediately with shock and fear and the room was not Valentine's. 

He gasped, and scuttled up. His breathing hitched, picking up as he stared at the man next to him. His back was to Eddie, but he could see it was an adult man with no shirt and soft curls that weren't too long but weren't too short. In fact, he kind of looked like an older- 

Richie turned over sleepily and smiled at Eddie. “Hi.” He said simply. Eddie opened his mouth and screamed, blindly climbed off of the bed and backed himself into a corner of the room.This man, this Richie look alike, it couldn't be him. Richie was 14, almost 15, not in his 30s. 

The fake Richie was up in a flash, glasses plunked on a face that was unrecognizable but so familiar it left Eddie nauseous. He turned the light on and Eddie picked his arms up to shield his face, cried out, “NO!” 

“Eddie, it's okay! It's just the light!” The fake Richie cried out, and backed off a bit. And to his surprise, the beams that did dance beyond his vision didn't hurt his eyes. He lowered his hands cautiously and opened his eye. The light did not hurt, and Eddie looked around in awe. His whole life was made of the dark, in fact he was totally dependent on it. So why could he see? He could see colors that used to be totally muted to him, could see the flush of pink on Richie's face, could see the pale blue of the rumpled blanket on the bed. 

“Richie?” He croaked out, mind still buzzing. What was happening? What had happened before this? Valentine, Canis Dirus, the school the woods, and his mind blanked. What had happened in those woods? 

Richie broke into a cocky grin and stepped closer. To Eddie's relief he was wearing pants. If his first time seeing Richie naked had been this way, he wasn't sure how he would handle it. But would he ever be able to see his Richie again? 14 year old Richie with the same cocky grin, but gangly body? The Richie who had a bit of acne and eyes that always seemed a bit too big? 

“You scared me, Eds! Thought you were being attacked or something.” Richie said and stepped closer again. Eddie cringed away, unable to process what was happening. He knew though, that this Richie must really be Richie, when he took another step forward, oblivious to Eddie's body language. 

“We were the ones attacking each other though last night, eh Eds?” He said teasingly and he cringed away further. Oh God, the farthest he and Richie had ever gone was a messy make out in the woods, and Richie had gotten to excited and bumped his sunglasses, so that was the end of that. And now, this Richie talking about sex? He couldn't think about it, didn't want to imagine it. He was 14 and half the time wasn't even comfortable looking at himself naked, how was he supposed to allow someone else to? 

“We could always attack each other some more, it is Sunda-” Richie began to say, and when he reached out to touch his arm Eddie screamed again. He did not want to, did not want to even think about it. Did not want anything else than an explanation of what the fuck was going on. 

“Eddie! I'm sorry, Jesus, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were thinking about him, I'm so sorry-” Richie rambled and backpedaled frantically. Eddie barely listened, instead shivered and stared wide eyed at Richie. 

“What's going on?” He cried out, and took a step forward to Richie. He reached out blindly and grabbed one of his arms, and Richie stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Please help me.” He whispered, and let go of Richie. Closed his eye tightly and tried not to cry. 

“Eddie.” Richie said and his voice was deeper, more husky but still with the awkward lilt from his youth that he remembered. Eddie felt his own mouth go dry at the sound, and he rubbed his face. How was he seeing without his sunglasses? Why did Richie look like an adult? Sound like an adult? Why- 

His fingers froze when they ran over his cheek. There was no hole, just some slight indentation. Skin sat there, and when Eddie attempted to dig through it he let out a cry of pain and stopped. 

“Eddie!’ Richie said with alarm and grabbed his hands with his own. “What's wrong?!” He asked with concern. This Richie still had the piercing eyes and coke bottle glasses but he looked so mature, hair curly and not overgrown. He was still taller than Eddie, but was more muscular, not the string bean he remembered. 

Eddie felt his eyes water with confusion and he croaked out, “Where am I? Why is the hole in my cheek covered?” Richie had a confused look on his face also, and let his hands go. He lifted one of his own to Eddie's face and rubbed the mark gently. 

“Eddie, are you feeling okay? The skin grafts, remember? I know you know because you used to cry about how much it hurt.” He said quietly, and Eddie felt around his face again, this time daring to go higher. He was blocked from his empty socket by some material covering it, and lifted it up. It snapped back on his face and he let out a yelp of pain. 

“Eddie! Listen, listen. You just woke up, you're probably just really confused. Do you remember me, at least? Richie? Your husband?” Richie said desperately, grabbing his hands again. Eddie blinked warily through the pain and it hit him. Husband? He and Richie actually stayed together and got married? Even in the confusing and scary situation, a blush couldn't help but coat his cheeks. 

“We get married?” He asked, not even thinking. Richie shot him an odd look but smiled sweetly and sat down on the bed. Eddie sat next to him dazedly. 

“Yes, of course Eddie. So you know me. What is confusing you, babe?” He asked gently and the pet name made Eddie blush harder and he put the new face in his new hands. What was confusing him was how Richie was older. And if Richie was older, that probably meant that Eddie was older too. What was going on? He was 14. 

“I'm...I'm 14. You are too. So why…” His voice trailed off and he looked at Richie pleadingly. Richie stared back at him and moved closer, one arm wrapping around Eddie's back. 

“Is this about what happened when we were freshmen?” Richie asked and now Eddie was even more confused. What happened when they were freshmen? The classroom. That damn wolf classroom, what had happened? Where was he and what year was it? 

“Freshmen? But...I'm not in high school yet. I went...I went to the school for a tour…” Eddie muttered and turned away. He was scared now, scared enough for tears to sharply tear through his vision. Why was he here? Was this some kind of punishment for killing two people, leading that third to his death? Eddie shut his eye tight again and thought hard. The last thing that had happened before waking up- 

The last thing that had happened was the clown catching him. He opened his eye in shock and turned back to the older Richie fast. “The clown! That's what I last remember! That man was killed by the bear and then-” He babbled but stopped when he saw Richie's face. He looked frightened, not of him but for him. 

“A bear killed someone? Killed a clown?” He asked bewildered and Eddie started to cry in confusion and fear. 

“No! The clown, he made the bear do it and you know what? I bet he killed Georgie too and all those kids!” He sobbed and let himself be held by Richie. 

“Georgie? Eddie, who's Georgie?” He asked, sounding very lost. Eddie sniffed and hiccuped, attempting to hold the rest of the tears back. 

“Bill's little brother. You know Richie!” He said, angry now. Richie knew exactly who he was talking about, and for some reason he was pretending he didn't know, like all his memories were gone. 

“Eddie, I'm not kidding, I swear. I have no idea who Georgie or Bill are.” Richie said quietly and the anger left his veins. It was true, his face said as much, solemn and slightly scared. He had no idea who Eddie was talking about. 

“What about Beverly?” He asked, desperate. Richie looked at him blankly. 

“Ben? Stan? Mike?!” He asked, tears again forcing themselves up and out. Richie, still solemn, wiped them away and stood up. “I really don't know, Eddie.” 

“What is happening? I'm 14, you're 14, Ben is the youngest, he's still 13…” He cried, and stood up as well. Richie glanced back at him and quirked an eyebrow in a very Valentine fashion, face still solemn and confused. 

“You're definitely not 14, Eddie. I can show you, if you wanna check.” He said softly. Eddie nodded uncertainly and followed him into a small offshoot in the room. 

Richie turned the light on, revealing it was a bathroom. Eddie looked around before finding the mirror. His eye widened at the sight and he took an unsteady step forward. 

A face that looked almost identical to his father's stared back at him. The same mussed looking brown hair, pale face and haunted eye(s) stared right back. Eddie gasped, and approached the mirror cautiously. 

“That's...me?” He asked, almost awed. He had always wondered what he would look like when he was older, and it was horribly fantastic to see. He had what seemed to be a permanent red mark on his cheek where the hole used to be, and a black eyepatch covered the socket that used to bore into others. 

“Yep.” Richie said, and even through the confused tone, Eddie could detect a hint of pride. In a weird way, he understood. As a kid, he had been tiny with a rage he barely kept a lid on, a rage that distorted any beauty or cuteness that may had laid upon him. But this person he saw in the mirror had a sleepy sort of beauty to him. His hair fell where it wanted, and his face had a permanent bleary look to it. Striking. Striking and tired. 

“What happened to the wolf?” He asked himself, and searched deep inside of himself. Richie didn't answer, seeming to understand it wasn't directed to him. He dug inside himself, looking for rage. And it was there, sleeping and injured, but Eddie knew he could rouse it. Knew he could sit beside the wolf and pet its fur til it woke up panting, feed it until it was healthy. 

He tilted his face in the mirror and woke the wolf up with a nudge. “I'm kind of nice to look at.” He said aloud, and realised how vain it sounded. 

Richie chuckled and backed out of the bathroom slowly. “You definitely are, Eddie.” He said back. 

~~~~~~

The day had been tense. Eddie sat silently and uncomfortably on the bed for most of it, mulling over what to do. The wolf let out a low whimper inside of him, but he ignored it. Richie didn't deserve his anger, this situation was in no way his fault. 

He strained his mind back to the night before, when he had been 14 and in the forest. When he had stumbled and that wolf had caught up to him, before...before…

Before what? What had happened after he had been caught? He remembered closing his eye as he expected to be eaten, clawed, killed in any way, but instead he had woken up in bed with an older Richie, being older himself. It made no sense. It made no sense. 

Richie was downstairs, had been since taking him to the bathroom to see himself. Eddie had been upstairs. The phone rang and Eddie froze, listening to the monotonous tone. Richie picked it up downstairs and Eddie heard him say, “Yello?” 

Just like that night with the cashier. Who Eddie had later killed. But that wasn't the point, the point was that something very strange and wrong was going on. 

“Mike? Mike Hanlon? I don't actually.” He heard Richie say, and at the mention of Mike's name Eddie picked himself up and raced down the stairs, ready to barge in, snatch the phone and ask Mike what was going on. But he stopped himself at the wall that led into the living room, where Richie continued to talk to Mike. 

“Oh...wait wait wait. I...I...oh…” Eddie heard Richie say and heard the realisation in his voice. He must've just barely figured it out, memories just barely coming back to him. All that they had been through together. The Losers, Georgie, everyone and everything. It wasn't Eddie who could bring that to him because he wasn't the Eddie meant to be there, he realised. 

In this strange future, Eddie must've forgotten too and was probably curled opposite from Richie in the bed and perhaps they woke up and smiled at each other and had a pleasant day relaxing and then the phone rang. 

And they remembered. 

But something had happened wrong. Eddie was not, well, Eddie. He was 14 year old, dangerously angry and volatile Eddie, the Eddie who cringed at sunlight but had no qualms about stabbing a grown man. This Eddie was not Eddie. 

“Now isn't a good time Mike. He, Eddie, he's having some kind of breakdown I think. I think it's because of what happened in freshmen year...yeah, you know…” 

Eddie listened silently behind the wall. Richie had said he didn't know Bill, didn't know Stan, didn't know Beverly, Ben or Mike. But he knew Mike just fine it seemed, through the talking. Talking about him. Eddie inched forward more, instincts taking over. 

“But...we did, I know that okay? ...That bad? My God...okay. Okay.” Richie continued to say, gripping the tiny ‘cellphone’ as he called it in his hand. Eddie stepped into the room casually, flopping down on the couch. He raised an eyebrow at Richie in fake confusion and smiled. Richie gave him a small smile back. 

“I gotta go, Mike. But we'll be there.” With that he clicked the phone off and went to sit in the chair next to Eddie. 

“How did you know?” He asked, and looked intently at Eddie. Eddie stared back, now feeling as if he were the one who had just waken up to Richie panicking and having no idea what was going on. 

“I don't know. I don't remember past a certain event, I don't know what happened in freshmen year. But Richie, you remember the Losers, right?” He asked quietly. Richie gulped harshly and nodded once. 

“We have to go back to Derry. Let me get a drink, I'll...I'll tell you what Mike said.” Richie said unsteadily and got up, walking out of the living room and into a brightly lit kitchen area. 

Eddie sat there, and suddenly he got the sensation he was being held, legs being gripped and pulled down, gentle hands on his arms and legs. He gasped, felt himself being lowered and attempted to scream. But his mouth was glued shut it felt like, as he was lowered more. 

All of the sudden the sensation of a mouth crashed onto his own, lips desperate and longing. Eddie gasped, felt the room in front of him start to shake and he felt himself lower, lower as he descended into the floor, feeling the mouth still on his own and his feet starting to touch ground as the world around him shifted. He closed his eye tight and gripped whoever was kissing him, trying to pull away and breathe. 

He opened his eye and Richie, his Richie with his gangly frame and hair that needed a good cutting was in front of him crying. “What the fuck?” He said dazedly and burst into tears also. 

He felt the Losers around him, saw their dim faces and heard their laughter and sobs. He looked around and saw they were in some sort of black underground place, with a spiral of toys in the center. He turned back to Richie and hugged him fiercely, another “What the fuck?!” escaping his lips. 

“Eddie! Eddie, It got you and we knew, It left us messages!” Richie sobbed and Eddie just hugged him tighter, felt the rest of the Losers join in and hug them too. 

He looked up again and saw the kids floating now, what looked like dead kids all around the tall spire that sat smugly in the center of the room. At the sight of those kids, dead and hopelessly floating, Eddie felt his anger start to seep into him. 

“Let's fucking kill It, then.” He choked out.


	18. Fatal Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie hears something at night, Bill receives a message from It, and Eddie leads a showdown that will either kill or free the Losers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I've realised the note I had on a chapter a bit back is a complete lie like I do not have any intention of finishing this soon like idk its like kinda my routine now? I get home from school, do homework, relax and then write. Its just what I do now and I can't give that up as selfish as that sounds. Stephen King actually had a really good quote about it, something like "Writers add acknowledgments bc we are horrified at how selfish we are" and I've come to realise how true it is. I'm really selfish with this story, I can't let it go anymore i just can't so I guess this means the end is no where near
> 
> Literally ill be 27 at work and post like "sorry guys chapter 4,587 will be late got another deadline" lol
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Richie woke with a start. It was late at night, the moon was peering in, and a scream had reverberated through the air. A scream that he swore he had heard before, just couldn't seem to pin down where exactly he had heard it or who's it was. 

He sat up, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He had been having uneasy, restless nights for awhile. The dreams he had were usually forgotten soon, but what he did remember was a hand reaching desperately towards his own and Eddie's voice desperately screaming his name. 

He stood up now, mouth and throat dry. Eddie was all he felt he could even focus on anymore, all that encompassed Richie. When someone smiled he thought of Eddie's, how it lit him up and gave him a burst of energy. When someone cried he thought of Eddie sobbing, broken, and Richie standing on the other side of a closet door. 

When he saw blood on tv, he thought of Eddie opening the door for him and exclaiming his name. 

Richie stood by his window, whose shades were usually shut. But lately he had kept them open, staring out into the forest that engulfed the back of his house, watching the branches sway sadly and the moon wane. He stared at the trees that had carried the scream to him, like a messenger desperate to be heard out. 

“An animal.” He muttered to himself but he knew it was a lie. Someone out there had screamed, had screamed in foolish hope that someone would hear and rescue them. Richie was no rescuer. He wasn't prepared to go and venture into the woods. 

His throat was still dry but he made his way back to his bed and lied down, hoping to fall asleep easily. He drifted off, mind still on the scream and how familiar it sounded. 

His dreams were full of sad rotting boys and trees that bent to comfort them. 

~~~~~~

Bill normally didn't go into Georgie’s room. It was sad and slightly terrifying after the picture that tried to eat his hand last summer. But when he had gone back up to his room after lunch, he paused on the top stair, and craned his neck towards the closed door. 

Music, the kind that chimed softly from a wind-up music box was softly emanating from the room. Bill felt his face go slack with shock. Was it Pennywise? Had the clown returned, left some horrific present for him in his little brothers room? 

Bill went to it cautiously, the closer he stepped the louder the music became. It was a sad tune, one that was almost done from the stepped nature of the notes. He turned the doorknob and opened the door as silently and carefully as he could. 

It was dark, as dark as it always was. The shades had been drawn together tightly, so the sun could not hit any part of the room and taint it with happiness. It was mournful and always would be. 

There was a music box in the center of the floor. Something inside danced slowly, bobbing and twisting on its peg as the music winded down. Bill warily stooped down and picked it up. 

The thing dancing was a painted boy, and Bill automatically knew it was supposed to be Eddie. It had one painted brown eye and a black pit for the other. The painted Eddie was going slower and slower in a circle as the music began to die, and something that Bill had not noticed sooner began gaining on the boy. 

It was a wolf, with a red clown nose and the same unfocused eyes as Pennywise. It went faster as the music died, the painted Eddie coming to a stop. Bill watched with wide eyes, finding himself unable to put it down. The last note rang out, and the wolf caught the boy, actually caught him, as if it had a mind of its own, and Bill heard a faint moan of pain emanate from the box. 

He screamed and threw it at the wall, threw it as hard as he could. When it made contact with the wall, a louder moan escaped the box. It lay on the floor, shattered. Blood began to seep from it slowly, so slowly that Bill tried to tell himself he was just seeing things. The blood seeped still though, and began to make its way to him. 

Bill turned and fled the room. 

~~~~~

“Eh-Eddie i-is in truh-trouble.” Bill said solemnly to the Losers and Richie felt like fainting. Last year they had tried so hard, had fought as valiantly as possible. They had known It would come back, because someone wasn't with them. Someone important. Someone with barely hidden rage and some holes from necrosis and a cute little nose Richie just wanted to kiss. 

He was taken now. Taken by It, taken by the clown, the mummy, the werewolf, the man, the thing that preyed on small children the way Eddie preyed on adults. 

“We need to save him!” Beverly cried out and any hesitation any of the Losers had been feeling was gone, now replaced by the uncanny sense that time was running out for one of their own. They hopped on their bikes, which had been left in a heap on Bill's lawn. As protocol. When Bill calls an emergency meeting, it's an emergency. 

As they biked frantically to the burnt down house on Neibolt street, Richie just prayed that time hadn't ran out yet.

~~~~~

It hadn't been easy, all of them lowering themselves into the well and then making their way to Eddie. Richie had never been in the sewers that deep, usually hiding in them as shallow as possible to avoid Henry Bowers and his gang. 

But as they descended and searched deeper, Bill cocked his head and whispered “Yuh-you g-g-guys hear thu-that?” Richie turned in the direction Bill was facing and heard it. It was a music box tune, a sad and mournful one that was far away. One look at Bill's face told them it was the same song he had heard. 

They followed Bill silently, followed him as the music got louder and the tone changed from sad to indifferent to angry. It shook them, shook Richie but he continued on. They would find Eddie and after that, would do what had to be done. 

The music grew even louder when they entered a huge careening area, with walls that seemed to extend forever. A massive spiral sat in the center, childrens items that had grown and grown. Richie bit back his gasp. They had been there before, but the pile had been smaller. 

He remembered the children that had been floating in the huge room, but one was floating much closer to the ground than the others, one with brown hair and pale skin, shorts and a t shirt. 

Eddie. 

Richie let out his gasp and ran to him, ran to him with the Losers in hot pursuit. He ran to face the boy desperately, some part of him hoping that it wasn't Eddie. That Eddie was actually sleeping in bed at Valentines and not floating here. But it was him, no other kid around had an empty socket or hole in his cheek or that cute little face that looked so beautiful to Richie when he relaxed. 

“He's floating!” Richie cried desperately, and jumped up, trying to grab Eddie. But he instead just barely grazed the socked foot that dangled so close but so far away at the same time. Looking up, Richie could see that his face was blank, eye such a hazy blue that he appeared blind. His mouth was open slightly and it almost looked like he was mouthing words. 

“Help me!” Richie shrieked in a very un-Richie manner, but ignored the whine in his own voice and looked desperately at the rest of the Losers. Bill stepped forward grimly, and Richie scrambled onto his shoulders. 

“Cuh-careful!” Bill cried as Richie reached for Eddie, grazing his leg and grabbing it hard. He ignored Bill and yanked on the leg, and for one terrifying moment it seemed as if Eddie might float higher. Richie yanked again, more desperate, and finally Eddie started to float down. 

His blank face changed, turning into one of confusion and fear. He moved slightly as the Losers pulled him down, Richie having hopped off of Bill and all of them pulling now. 

But when his feet hit the ground the glassy look in his eye did not go away. Instead he remained that way, confused and slightly irritated. 

Richie stepped forward and crashed his mouth onto Eddie's, putting all the fear and desperation he had been feeling into it. He kissed him longer than they had ever kissed before, and although there was love in it, it was more of the kiss you give someone you will never see again. 

Eddie gasped and pulled away, looking shocked, eye now its normal color. Richie stared back at him, breath trapped in his lungs.

"What the fuck?!” Eddie gasped and burst into tears. 

~~~~~

After being collectively crushed by the Losers, they told him what had happened. The music box, the meeting and the trek through the sewer. All for him, all because he was one of them and they would not allow him to be taken. Eddie felt himself tear up again and soon everyone was crying, crying with relief and fear and anger. 

Eddie looked up again, seeing the bit of sunlight that fell from the grate high above them. Looking at the floating kids and their dead limbs, at the eternal dreams he hoped they were having. The eternal dream he had almost been sucked into, older but only physically. He wondered if they could be woken up what their visions would show. 

“Oh God…” Ben whimpered and they all turned to look at what he saw, all seeing the mangled body of the clown standing mere feet from them. 

“All here! All here, and all so so scared!” It shrieked and burst into laughter, making awkward jerking movements forward. Eddie bent down, picked up what his hands first curled on. He brought himself back up and studied the pipe carefully. 

“I'm gonna beat your fucking face in, clown.” Eddie said calmly and took a step forward. The Losers all bent down and grabbed weapons of their own. The clown faltered for a moment, eyes wide and still unfocused. 

“Come and try, Eds!” It screamed, and the sound seemed to reverberate through them and the whole sewer. He wondered vaguely if Derry residents thought a minor earthquake was shaking the town. 

As the clown drew closer, Bill stepped forward with the long sheet of metal he was holding and struck the clown, throwing it fast and long. It hit It square in the face, slicing off skin and drawing blood. 

It let out a slight gurgle of pain and surprise. “Fuh-fuck off!” Bill yelled at it. The Losers cheered and advanced on the clown, who stood there in surprise, before focusing on Ben and turning into the mummy. 

Ben screamed at it ran at him but Stan stepped forward, rotted baseball bat in hand and brought it hard into Its abdomen. When It stopped again in surprise he brought it down again, knocking It to Its knees. 

Eddie stepped forward as It looked at them one at a time, shocked and confused when no fear was found. He stepped right in front of It, and studied It as It began to scream, high and thin and earth shattering. 

Eddie brought the pipe up high, face calm while It screamed high, blotting out every other sound around him. It's face was bashed in, eyes unfocused and mouth opened as far as it could go. He screamed along with it and brought the pipe down, ready to smash its fucking face in, ready for this thing to be gone and out of his life - 

“Eddie? Is this about what happened to you in freshmen year?” Richie said sweetly in front of him, older Richie with his tousled curls and deep voice. Richie kneeling in front of him, looking at Eddie with such innocence and love, that Eddie faltered completely. He let the pipe hover for a moment, so close to stabbing older Richie, before dropping it. 

Richie smiled at him and the frantic screams of the Losers left Eddie. The world changed again, he was no longer in the sewers next to a decrepit pile of children's toys, he was standing above Richie who was sitting on the bed. The bed he had woken up in that morning, the confusing illusion that he had been woken from by the real Richie.

“Is it, Eddie? I'm worried.” Richie said, and now he had that sympathetic look on his face, had the furrow between his eyebrows and held one strong hand out. Eddie was paralysed, standing in front of this Richie that he knew wasn't real, that he knew any second would rip the mask off and kill him. Kill him and then kill the rest of the Losers, including the real Richie. 

“What happened freshmen year?” Eddie asked listlessly, standing in front of him still. He took a step back slowly as Richie got up, still looking sympathetic. 

“C’mon Eddie, you know what happened. You don't have to pretend with me.” He said quietly, still advancing on the boy. Eddie continued to take measured steps back, eye narrowed and focused on the man in front of him. He would not let his emotions get in the way next opportunity, would not allow himself to falter at his face. He would not sacrifice the real Richie who was somewhere in reality to this fake Richie waiting to kill him. 

“What happened.” He said again, now a statement instead of a question. His back hit the wall as Richie kept advancing and now Eddie could see, see the glimmer of hunger and undefinable evil in his black eyes, one that he knew were only found in It. 

Richie screwed his face up, looking forlorn. Eddie made contact with a lamp on a near bedside table and gripped it loosely. 

“I never should've made you promise not to kill anyone else. If I hadn't it wouldn't have happened.” He said pitifully and Eddie brought the lamp swinging, swung it directly into his face where it shattered. The whole room shattered around him and he was back in the sewer. Back in the sewer with a clown bleeding profusely in front of him and the terrified screams of the Losers behind him. 

He turned and screamed also, right into the group behind him. “Is It dead?!” He asked frantically and hid himself in Richie's embrace. No one responded, all more focused on screaming and the clown shambling towards them with its face beaten and bleeding. He turned back to look at It, saw Its face starting to turn back to older Richie's. 

“EHHHDDDDIEE!” It wailed, still shambling towards him. The face was a mix of all of their fears now, crooked for Stan, dry and husk like for Ben, clown face paint for Richie, curly hair with glasses for Eddie. 

He stepped forward, still screaming but now with anger, and picked the pipe up again. It stepped forward unevenly, and this time all the Losers took steps forward as well, each one gripping some home fashioned weapon. 

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB!” Richie screamed, and swung the shovel he was holding up high, smashing it down onto the amalgamation of fear. It shrieked and scuttled back but the Losers were not done with it yet, instead Beverly stepped forward and slammed it in the face with the tire iron she held. 

“JUST DIE!” She screamed and slammed it onto the beast again, inciting another moan of pain and terror. It crept back faster now, on hands and feet. Before flipping itself over into one of the various sewer holes dotting their battleground. 

Bill stepped forward, face impassive and righteous. “Wuh-we are nuh-not scared o-of yuh-you.” He hissed, and raised his weapon high. It shrank back in fear of its own, out of reach. 

“And nuh-now you're th-the o-one who's scuh-scared. Becuh-cause you're guh-going to stuh-starve.” He finished, and the Losers peered over the edge of the hole, watching as It looked at them frantically for fear. It made eye contact with Eddie, face switching to that of older Richie just one more time. 

“Is this about freshmen year?” It whispered to him in the excellent mimicry of his voice. Eddie stared back, watched as the face flaked and peeled away into nothingness. “No.” He said back. 

The Losers all watched silently as It crumbled away, before the grip it had loosened and It fell back into the blackness. Eddie turned and impulsively wrapped his arms tight around his Richie, the real Richie who was his age and knew nothing about what laid ahead in freshmen year. 

“Good job trashmouth.” He mumbled into his shirt and burst into tears. Richie responded with tears of his own and hugged him fiercely, crushing him in his embrace. 

“Good job yourself, Eddie Spaghetti.” He sobbed back and soon they were all hugging each other tight, collectively frightened and exhausted and exhilarated by their experience defeating the clown. 

~~~~~~

They had made their way out of the sewers in tears, the laughing and crying type. Eddie clung to Richie throughout the whole trip, and Richie clung back to him just as desperately. 

Once they were out of the well, out of the burnt house and biking towards the Barrens, only then did Eddie allow himself to relax. He was riding double with Richie, arms wrapped around the boy as he biked. He had his eye shut desperately, face scrunched into Richie's back but he found that the rays that did dance beyond his vision did not hurt. 

“I love you.” He said aloud, and for the first time it felt right to Eddie. That they had finally defeated one of the things plaguing the Losers, that it was finally safe to love Richie wholly and without fear. That now, they could not be torn apart so easily. 

Richie turned back to him slightly, satisfied smile across his face. “Love you too, Eds.” He said back and Eddie felt the wind in his hair intensify as Richie biked faster. He picked his head up and opened his eye. 

It did not hurt to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a different note, most likely there will not be a chapter coming on Thursday. We have Friday off for school so I've invited 2 friends over! The theater close by is still playing It bc we live in the middle of Vermont so literally just a bunch of small cities trading movies that came out monthes back to be played in theaters. Unfortunately this does mean most likely no chapter on Thursday. In fact, october will be the month of days with no chapter. My birthday is the 18th so no chapter then most likely, the weekend after that is a joint party for me and my best friend and no chapter on Halloween most likely :( sorry about that guys!


	19. Permanent Vision Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie takes Eddie out for his birthday and Eddie has trouble discerning what is real and what is fake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firssssttt off, biggest and hugest thanks to reddie-in-the-sky, I feel as if this chapter is hers just as much as it is mine! 
> 
> I KNOW I said that uploads happen at 9, but me and reddie-in-the-sky were making sure its absolutely perfect for you guys!! 
> 
> This is not a very plot heavy chapter but I swear its laying groundwork for new twists and the likes! 
> 
> I also just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who reads this, especially those who never fail to comment about what they liked in every single chapter! You know who you are, and you guys are definitely a Losers club of your own! Even if there are not 7 of us yet! 
> 
> Reminder, there will most likely not be a chapter coming Thursday as I have some people sleeping over!! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thank you so much for reading!!!

Eddie only wore bandages now. The sunglasses he had depended on the way addicts rely on their drug of choice were now lying on the floor of his room. He stepped on them once, causing a crack in one of the lenses. 

He couldn't explain why the light no longer wreaked havoc on his vision. Sometimes he wondered when he was alone at night if the vision he had seen had changed him. In the dream, his eyesight had been fine. And when he returned, it had still been fine.

He wondered—only when he was so tired but awake at the same time—if he was even the same Eddie. If perhaps he came from a different universe where his eyesight was fine, where something really bad had happened in freshman year.

It was one week after the Losers had defeated It and one week before the first day of school. 

Eddie felt himself grow more and more nervous with the start of school steadily approaching, a place where the other kids had had chances to form bonds and progress naturally. Eddie had gotten all his knowledge from high school and college level textbooks checked out by his mom at the library. He wasn't worried about bonds, though. Something told him that the Losers club would still be standing as strong as it stood then, even during school. 

One relief was that Eddie had managed to wrangle a deal with the school into letting him trail Richie throughout the school year. All the same classes, same lunchroom, same homeroom. But to be honest, the school would probably allow him to take math for all four classes if he demanded it. 

As for the other lessons, he had flat out refused to learn them anymore. After coming home from the fight in the sewers, Valentine had been waiting silently in the kitchen for him.

"I trust nothing went too wrong,” he had said, quirking an eyebrow at him. Eddie had ignored it, instead seating himself across from the man. 

“I don't need the sunglasses anymore,” Eddie said after a beat, and Valentine had nodded in the way he always did. Accepting the unbelievable, as long as it helped keep his wolf out of trouble and on the killing path still. 

“When do you think you'll be up to the next case?” 

Eddie felt the anger that he thought had died with It make itself known. He had come back after being missing all night and morning, and all the detective wanted to know was how soon he would kill again? 

“Never.” 

Eddie felt his face redden with anger as he spat the words out. He had made a promise to keep himself in check, to stop the madness before it drove him and Richie even more apart. 

He meant to keep that promise.

But rather than getting angry like Eddie had expected, the man had only shrugged and drunk from the mug in front of him before getting up. 

“Sure, we'll see about that. But just remember, dire wolves are supposed to be extinct. No use having one around if it just wants to keep that myth going.” With that he had retreated, leaving the boy to sit at the table by himself. 

Valentine was right, in a way. Eddie had not been able to stop himself from going after Mr. Corcoran, even if it had been some misguided attempt at noble suicide. 

And Valentine had gone on the tour of the school, too, had probably sensed the same wolf that Eddie had. Valentine also understood Eddie and his anger probably even better than the boy himself. 

But school was still another week away. For now, he sat on the banks of the Barrens with Richie and Mike, watching the rest of the Losers attempt to rebuild a dam. It was finally Richie's birthday, a glorious fifteen that only Beverly had experienced before the rest of them. 

“This is a lame-ass party,” Eddie said, looking over and smiling at the other boy. Richie looked back at him and smiled too—a sweeter and more sincere expression than Eddie’s. 

“It could never be a lame-ass party if you and the Losers were there, Eds,” he said. A pause. Then, “Besides, this isn't the real party. That's for the weekend.” 

Eddie nodded and looked away, focusing on the trees and the screams of joy when the Losers finally built their dam. 

~~~~~~

Richie really hadn't wanted to spend the day hanging out with the Losers. In fact, he had thought it would just be him and Eddie down at the Barrens. Like a date, almost. So Richie decided if they couldn't have a date down at the Barrens, they could have one later that day. 

“I wanna take you on a real date.” He glanced at Eddie. 

Eddie had mud on his nose and was staring up at the trees in quiet awe, but now he whipped around and stared at Richie. 

“A date? Really?” he asked, and Richie smiled at the smaller boy as pink coated his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Richie nodded, taking Eddie's hand in his own. 

“I'll pick you up at Valentines at 6, okay? You can spend the night at my house,” Richie said, and the younger boy mulled over the deal, hand cold in Richie's. 

“Give me your sweatshirt. Then if you don't show up, I'll at least have that,” Eddie said finally, and turned to watch Richie head on. 

Richie let out a burst of confused laughter at the request before taking his sweatshirt off and handing it to Eddie. “That's bullshit, why would I ever bail on you?” he asked. 

Eddie shrugged and held the sweatshirt close to himself, burying his face in it. Richie realised what Eddie was thinking about, and suddenly his own mind was on it as well. Was he seriously about to take a boy who had killed two grown men out on a date? Eddie smiled at him ruefully, knowing he had just gotten it. 

“You might change your mind,” Eddie murmured. Richie swallowed the lump that had begun to form in throat and reached over to hold the other boy’s hand again. 

“Something tells me I won't.” 

~~~~~

Richie waited until Eddie went home to check out all the spots he could take Eddie to on a date. Unfortunately, there weren't a whole lot, and all of the cool ones cost money—money Richie most definitely didn't have after the last movie with the Losers. 

So instead he resigned himself to the free spots dotted around Derry, and when he found one he thought was suitable, he hopped on his bike to pick Eddie up. 

After the earlier reminder of just what the younger boy really was, Richie had found himself the tiniest bit leery. And when they had fought It, Richie could've sworn that Eddie's fear was an older version of Richie himself. 

But Eddie had been tight-lipped about it, refusing to explain what he had seen or what his fear was. It was just another piece in the gigantic mystery that was Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Richie got to Valentine's house in the nick of time, right before six. After nearly falling off his bike, Richie ran up to the tall front door of the house and knocked. 

Eddie answered almost immediately, still looking nervous, as if he expected Richie to take one look at him and decide it was a bad decision. Turn and run the other way, as far as he could get from Eddie. 

Instead Richie stood there and stared at the boy, who remained frustratingly beautiful even in black sweatpants and Richie’s sweatshirt, which was much too big. He thought Eddie looked gorgeous in a dangerous way—ready and able to kill anyone. Somewhere in the back of Richie’s mind, he knew Eddie probably was. 

Eddie’s hair flopped out of control in the breeze, and Richie grinned, reaching over and tucking part of the overgrown bangs behind his ear. Eddie blushed but allowed him to, eyebrow cocked in a manner definitely learned from Valentine. 

“Where are we going, old man?” Eddie teased, arms crossed. Richie smiled again at the other boy and dragged Eddie onto the bike by the arms before locking the limbs around his waist. 

“The cheapest place I could find!” he joked and started pedaling off. Because it was true. His money from chores had run out fast, and as eager as Richie was to take Eddie out, he was not eager enough to mow the whole lawn. 

The ride was not too far, as he had chosen one of the few free-to-walk-through places in Derry, which was a cornfield. They dismounted outside of the starting gate and hurried inside, wind already biting in August. 

A cornfield was not exactly what Richie had been planning, but it was the closest and the most convenient. Besides, it was his birthday, and he got to choose what he wanted, right? And Eddie didn't seem to mind as they walked in, instead taking in the brilliant green and yellow of the cornstalks with wide eyes. 

“This is a shitload of corn,” Eddie said finally. They had been wandering mostly in silence, hands clasped together between them. Richie laughed and pulled the boy closer so that he was tucked under his arm. 

“It sure is, Eds. Let's go to my house now, I'm tired of seeing the same fucking piece of corn everywhere we go,” Richie quipped, pulling Eddie back to the entrance. His fingers grazed underneath the sweatshirt Eddie was wearing, and Richie's heart jolted at the feeling of his bare skin. It jolted even more when Eddie did not pull away, instead leaning further into the touch. 

Richie had not thought very far into their relationship. It was the first he had ever had, and thoughts of intimacy had been overshadowed with fear for Eddie. But now, now that It had been defeated and they were both falling into a routine, the little patch of skin that Richie kept tracing over and over again was driving him crazy. 

And now they were on his bike, going to Richie's house where his mom and dad would be out until late—where they would be alone, in his room—he couldn't stop thinking about it. Because really, what was stopping them? 

They dismounted the bike in silence, tension high between them. Richie automatically went back for the little patch of skin on Eddie's side again, tracing it with fervor. He opened the door with one hand, ushering Eddie inside before slamming it closed and leading the boy up the stairs to his room. 

Richie would admit that neither he nor Eddie had much experience. But hey, he was fifteen now, and that meant more room to experiment, right? 

So he led Eddie to his bed, sitting the other boy down. And that was when he noticed the uncomfortable expression on Eddie's face, the hunched shoulders and crossed legs. 

“Eddie?” he asked, sitting down beside the other boy. All excitement he had built up was gone, concern for Eddie now the only thing on his mind. 

Eddie shifted towards Richie a little, embarrassed flush high on his face. 

“I don't know how far you wanna go, but I don't wanna go any further than kissing,” he said, voice low and wavering with guilt. He looked up at Richie with an apologetic expression that told Richie he was sorry for ruining the other boy’s birthday.

Richie’s eyes widened with shock, and he grabbed Eddie’s hand. “I don't either, Eds. But I'm sorry if you felt like...like I was gonna…” He trailed off, flustered. Eddie smiled at him, still embarrassed but much calmer now. 

“You can kiss me if you still want to, Richie,” Eddie mumbled, angling himself closer to Richie. Richie stared at him for a moment, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Don't mind if I do,” he said with a wink and met Eddie halfway, careful not to bump his glasses into the boy's face too hard and not to grip Eddie’s hair too tight. 

But Eddie didn't complain, instead closing his eye and leaning into the kiss, back relaxed and hands loosely gripping at the back of Richie's shirt. Richie put one hand in Eddie’s hair and stroked it, something that would’ve seemed awkward with anyone else. 

When they broke apart, Eddie was flushed again—this time with a pink of satisfaction and love rather than embarrassment or discomfort. Richie just kept smiling at him and whispered, “I love you, Eddie Spaghetti.” 

Eddie elbowed him and flopped down on the bed, legs stretched out onto Richie. “Love you too, trashmouth. Now put a movie on; I'm tired!” He complained without any bite, instead focused on getting comfortable. 

Richie smiled and got up, popping in a random horror movie before climbing back into the bed and laying down next to Eddie. The poor boy was already drowsy, eye closed and breathing evening out as the beginning notes of Friday the 13th hummed through the air. 

Richie wrapped his arms around the younger boy and started to fall asleep himself. 

~~~~~~

A bell. A bell was ringing somewhere, and it woke Eddie up with a start. He got up, felt around the bed for Richie but did not find anyone. He tried to open his eye, but he found himself unable. 

He reached up with dread of what he would find, and he found not one but two empty sockets. He whimpered and felt around the rest of his face. My fucking God, did necrosis work that fast? Was his upper face gone now? 

The bell continued, and someone opened the door. Eddie swung towards them and croaked, “My face, what happened to my face?” 

The person did not respond, instead stepping forward after a moment and stopping in front of him. “Eh-Eddie, yuh-your cuh-cuh-connection is nuh-needed by t-the elders.” 

Eddie reached forward and grabbed Bill’s face. Bill jerked back as though burned. Eddie heard some shuffling sounds as the face retreated higher. 

“Bill, what's going on?” he cried, standing up. “Where's Richie?” 

He heard the other boy take even, measured breaths before grabbing Eddie's hand and leading him slowly through the door. “Ruh-Richard i-is tuh-tending the fuh-field with Beh-Benjamin,” Bill said, leading him out of the room. 

Eddie stumbled as he was tugged down the stairs, but managed to catch himself. He turned in the direction of Bill's voice. “Bill, what's going on? I'm dreaming, right? Lucid dream or whatever they call it?” 

Bill said nothing, leading Eddie forward and opening a door. Cold morning air attacked Eddie with a burst, and he shivered, sucking in a breath as he was pulled outside. 

“Duh-don’t spuh-speak non-n-nsense. You nuh-need to muh-meet with It,” Bill said. Eddie felt himself drop off a porch, wintry grass stinging his bare feet. He shivered again, both at the cold and the oddity of what was happening. 

“Okay, whatever. But if it's my dream, it makes sense that I would get to decide what happens, right?” He felt uneasy but not frightened yet. Eddie thought he was probably having some lucid nightmare. 

Bill paused him as they continued walking on the grass. “Eddie,” he said with no stutter, “Thu-this is nuh-no dr-dream.” 

~~~~~~

Eddie woke with a start, relieved when he felt Richie's skin pressed against his own. He went to open his eye and look at Richie, but his eye wouldn’t open. 

He froze, bringing his hands to his face. He stifled a scream when he felt the two empty sockets. 

His eyesight had been fine after the last vision.

But now his face was destroyed. 

“I’m hallucinating,” Eddie whispered, forcing himself to calm down as much as he could. “I’m in shock.” He’d gone through traumatic events before; this was no different. There was no way his dream had changed him in reality. 

_The same way your vision hasn't changed you? Hasn't given you better eyesight, hasn't made you invulnerable to the sun?_

He flipped over to face Richie, shoving his thoughts down to where he could no longer hear them. It took a long time for him to fall asleep. 

He had no more dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My kitten has been so needy lately, always on my face or crying for me. :( she's fine, but we had to bring her to my dad's house bc my mom is gone for a couple of days. She definitely does not like it here!!


	20. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie worries over the treatment of Eddie's wounds, Eddie is pushed to kill again and sees something odd in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there a way to individually dedicate chapters?? I have so many people I wanna thank indivuadally, but I have almost no clue when it comes to how to work this site lol. Or should I just do it myself in the beginning note? Not sure but if anyone has any knowledge/ideas I would be eternally grateful!
> 
> I will forever warn this, Thursday there will most likely be no chapter. I am trying to come up with some songs that I like to listen to whilst writing/reading back what I wrote for Thursday but most like no real chapter will be coming!!
> 
> In fact, here's a schedule of days that will probably not have chapters :
> 
> October 5th (sleepover!)
> 
> October 13th (this is a maybe/maybe, its my best friends birthday so I dunno whats going down :/) 
> 
> October 18th (my birthday!! Finally be 16 whoop) 
> 
> The weekend after the 18th (going down to mass. w/ best friend for joint party) 
> 
> October 27th (what can I say season 2 of stranger things is dropping so I'm having best friend over to binge watch) 
> 
> October 31st (going trick or treating with best friend!) 
> 
> And last I have to give my biggest thanks to reddie-in-the-stars, for listening to all dumb plot ideas I have and fixing this chapter which I admit was half written through an episode of ST :S

When Eddie awoke, the dream had been almost forgotten, locked away in the depths of his mind. Only a quick, almost involuntary touch to his face indicated the fears that had plagued him. 

He found himself still locked tight in Richie's embrace, where even in sleep the older boy was thumbing at the skin of Eddie's side. Which led him to the embarrassment of yesterday, breaking down and drawing a line at kissing that Richie had never even meant to cross. 

And yes, in a way it was because Eddie was scared some part of him would reject the intimacy, decide to trade love for bloodlust. But it went deeper than that. 

_What happened freshman year?_

His eyesight hadn't been the only thing to change. Whatever had happened to that Eddie, it had to do with sex. 

_What the fuck happened freshman year?_

The older version of himself—the one from the vision— had been scared and uncomfortable to do anything sexual for a reason—and it wasn't just a guess on Eddie's part. He had somehow taken pieces of that other Eddie's life back with his own, the eyesight and the newfound fear now instilled in him as deeply as in the other. 

Whatever had happened, it had been scarring to that other him, the one who had married Richie and left Derry. And those same mental scars had somehow transferred back with him, brought over from what could seemed to be be a dream. 

But it was a dream that repaired his vision. 

Eddie guessed that dreams were more powerful than he’d ever known. 

~~~~~  
Richie had woken up with Eddie, but he allowed Eddie a few quiet moments alone before Richie began to annoy the other boy. 

He pretended to wake up, yawning and blinking. He turned to face Eddie and smiled, the same cocky smile he gave Eddie every day. Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled back.

“Eddie!” Richie whined and dragged the smaller boy closer to himself, the body heat and feel of Eddie too close to resist. He felt the younger boy shiver and try to pull away. 

“My chest!” he wheezed, clutching at where Richie knew the skin had rotted away and left him with a black hole of pain. Richie let go of him immediately, sitting up as soon as Eddie said that. 

“You need to see a doctor,” Richie said, watching as Eddie struggled to regain his breath. The boy didn't argue, instead closing his eye and nodding once. 

Eddie sat up and took a deep breath, holding the hole in his chest underneath the sweatshirt of Richie's he still wore. 

“Hungry?” Richie asked after a beat, standing up. Eddie nodded again, also getting to his feet and allowing himself to be led down the stairs and to the dining room by Richie. 

Richie sat Eddie down at the table, shuffling into the kitchen to fix the boy some cereal, which was the only thing he definitely knew how to make. 

A doctor. How was he going to get Eddie to a doctor, and how soon could he? The boy's eyesight had been fixed—rather suspiciously to Richie but he chose not to ask just yet—but the holes in his body weren't getting any better. In fact, they seemed to be getting worse, causing the boy pain that Richie had never seen before. 

Still contemplating his options, Richie returned to the dining room with the cereal and found his mother sitting across from Eddie. He froze, milk sloshing out of the bowl. 

“Hi, sweetie,” she said, beckoning him over with one wave of her hand. Richie went reluctantly, placing the cereal in front of Eddie. Eddie smiled, taking the spoon and beginning to eat. 

“Are you going to school with Richie?” Mrs. Tozier asked, and Eddie nodded once out of politeness. Richie felt his face heat up with embarrassment, wishing the awkwardness would stop. 

“Oh wow. I was talking to the school board, and I heard a lot of parents were against you attending normal classes,” she said, and both boys glanced at each other with surprise. 

“What?” Richie asked, disbelief written all over his face. Eddie not attending normal classes? What type of bullshit was that? 

“Oh yes, it was quite the controversy I heard. Lots of them think you're off your rocker kid, full on batshit crazy,” she slurred. 

Richie suddenly realised his mother was drunk, spouting off gossip meant to remain within the adult community of Derry. 

Eddie's face had gone white, the anger that would usually surface after such a comment nowhere to be seen, leaving him silent and teary-eyed. 

“I'm not hungry,” Eddie mumbled, pushing the cereal away. 

~~~~~

Eddie got to Valentine's late that afternoon, opting to walk instead of being biked. After the conversation with Richie's mom, neither boy was willing to admit to the other that Eddie had been labeled deranged by the adults of Derry. Or more accurately, the fact that it was most likely true. Not a whole lot of fourteen-year-olds had a body count, much less a body count consisting of only adults. 

When Eddie did finally reach the house, the front door sat ajar, a welcome invitation to come in. He walked in, still sweaty from being pressed up against Richie all night. 

He found Valentine in the living room, seated on the couch with the tv on mute. The man waved Eddie over, but he ignored the invite, instead moving toward the stairs take a shower.

“Did you know we didn't have enough proof to bring Mr. Corcoran in? Never found the murder weapon,” Valentine said. Eddie paused, taking a minute to process what the detective had said. 

“But we all knew he did it. Hell, he probably killed the older boy too,” the man continued. Eddie turned around, shower forgotten. 

“What're you trying to say?” Eddie demanded. Valentine glanced at the boy and shrugged, ever indifferent. 

“Just saying that no one misses him. Least of all me, or those dead children.” Valentine stood, a sour smile twisting his face. 

“But I'm sure the rest of the men in the Canis Dirus folder are _eternally_ grateful you decided you were too righteous to stop them.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Eddie snapped and already the anger that he had fought to push down deep inside himself started to claw its way back out. 

“It means that it will be your fault if anyone else gets hurt by the people in that folder,” Valentine said, turning to walk away from the boy. Eddie rushed up to him, grabbed his arm hard and stopped the man in his tracks. 

“My fault? How about yours? Why can't you take care of them?” Eddie demanded, grip tight on Valentine's arm. 

Valentine turned to the boy slowly, face blank and impassive. 

“Because I'm not a killer, Eddie.” 

The words gutted him hard, leaving a sharp knife in his stomach. Eddie had always avoided labeling himself a killer, instead tip-toeing around his misdeeds. But to hear it aloud, to hear another human being accurately describe him, made it real. 

Eddie Kaspbrak had taken the lives of two men and led a third to his death. 

“That's not fair,” he gasped, grip slackening on Valentine's arm. The man shook Eddie’s hand off, eyebrow cocked. 

“Is it? I didn't say it like it was a bad thing, Eddie. It's merely a descriptor.” A pause. Then: "In fact, it’d be a shame if you stopped. Too many kids get hurt by adults around here, Eddie.”

Eddie felt the anger in his system rise until it was all that was left, a sea chorusing for blood. He closed his eye tight in an attempt to regain his composure. 

“You know that all too well yourself.” 

And with that, the man left the boy to the anger that destroyed him. 

~~~~~~~

The woods were the only place where Eddie ever felt truly alone anymore. In Valentine's house the boy was tracked, last known whereabouts always recorded, mood analyzed for how best Valentine could manipulate it to his own will. 

Out in public, he was somewhat of a celebrity, the kid with half his face missing who had been locked in an attic for fourteen years. Even if someone was not asking questions, he was gawked at by children and adults alike.

And with the Losers, he could never be alone. Someone was always there to sit quietly with him or talk with him or do whatever activity they had planned that day. And Eddie loved it most of the time, loved the shared feeling of community that the Losers provided for each other. 

But his talk with Valentine had reminded him of what was inevitable. That he was some wolf pretending to be a sheep, that he was not meant to be let out of the cage. Valentine let him out with expectations he would bring kills back, and now that the kills were stopped it was only a matter of time before the steel front of the cage banged shut on Eddie. 

So he snuck out at night, feet bare with only the sweatshirt from Richie to protect against the biting wind. When his feet brushed the frosty grass, Eddie froze for a moment, a memory with no picture—only sound—hitting him square in the face. 

Bill had been dragging him through the grass, saying he had to meet something, or someone, for the elders. And his face had been destroyed, stripped of flesh and tissue. Eddie brought his hands to his face for reassurance, and dropped them when he was sure everything was still intact. 

“It was just a dream,” Eddie murmured, pushing away the fear that had crept up and frozen him on the chilled grass. 

_It was a dream that changed you though, remember? A dream that allows you to wear only bandages, a dream that cast you out of shadow and into sunlight._

_Who's to say that other dreams couldn't change you as well?_

“Well, I'm not blind, am I?” he muttered, before continuing towards the sharp starting line of the forest. The trees seemed to let out a sigh as Eddie passed into their resting place, bending down to brush against his face with soft branches. 

Eddie walked without any clear direction or plan, wandering through the flora until a low whine stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned around, movements slow and controlled. 

A dark shadow shifted across from him, the source hidden behind a cluster of trees. It stepped closer, and with a dull sort of shock Eddie realised it was a wolf. And not just an average-sized one, but one that came at least to Eddie's chest, perhaps even higher. 

It loped forward with no fear, only a spark of curiosity in eyes that seemed to reflect the moon's glow. Eddie willed himself to stand still, holding his ground against the huge predator in front of him. 

“Shoo,” Eddie hissed at the wolf, hands held out in defense. But the wolf dipped its head and strode a bit closer, nose twitching with curiosity. 

“Don't get any closer,” Eddie warned, not moving a muscle. He curled his hands into fists and brought them back to his side, eyes narrowed. The wolf ignored the edge in his voice, instead approaching until its head was almost level with Eddie's chest. 

They watched each other for a bit, only the wheeze of the wind providing any sort of distraction. Eddie brought a fist out, careful not to startle the wild animal, and brought it up to its nose. The wolf sniffed the closed hand, before retreating a few steps. It whined again, cocking its head. 

“You coming?” it seemed to say, pacing forward and then back again. Eddie took an uncertain step towards the wolf, who turned and began to walk through the forest. Eddie followed, already knowing where they were going. 

When they reached the clearing, Eddie glanced at the pile of dead animals on the south side of it. Two wolves and a deer, still lying there. It troubled him, seeing only two wolves. He had led Mr. Corcoran to his death, so why weren’t there three? 

But before Eddie could wonder further, his attention was grabbed by two orbs of light, right in the center of the clearing, that seemed to sway with the wind, slowly growing. A whine of his own escaped from his lips when two humanoid shapes formed. 

One was taller, with straight hair cut severely short; even from the distance, Eddie could tell it was Bill. And the boy whose arm Bill was pulling...it was Eddie. Even from the back, he knew.

He stared at the other version of himself, a phantom Eddie being dragged by a phantom Bill. The other Eddie’s feet were bare, and although Eddie could only see the other’s back, he was certain the upper half of the other Eddie’s face was missing. 

They were walking to the edge of the woods, north of Eddie and the wolf. When they reached the first tree that soared into the sky, the ghostly Bill let go of Eddie and walked back, every step dissipating him further and further, until he was no more. 

Eddie leaned forward, one hand on the wolf's neck, attempting to get a clearer view on the phantom boy who was standing stock still beside the tree. He stumbled, foot landing on a twig with a loud thump. 

The phantom turned around and seemed to stare at him with no eyes. Eddie reeled back into the safe shadows of the forest, crouching lower next to the wolf. 

The ghostly boy turned away, and started to dissipate the same way Bill had, feet turning into nothingness that traveled up the body until the spot where he had stood was empty. 

The wolf let out one long mournful note that echoed throughout the forest. Concentration broken and mind numb with shock, Eddie turned and began walking through the forest back to Valentine's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewatched Stranger Things up to episode 4 and honestly can't look at Mike the same way now that I've heard Finn say "you think that feels good? Just wait till you tickle your pickle for the first time" I was howling in the theater bc I am immature so when a sad part comes on in ST and I'm trying not to cry I just imagine him saying that and then im crying and laughing and my mom always threatens to not let me watch anything ever again lol


	21. Infections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie takes Eddie to a doctor and Eddie is discovers something very odd about the clearing. 
> 
> It is a blistering hot day in 1960, Derry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did end up publishing this chapter on Thursday, technically, but it was written on Wednesday so it counts!! 
> 
> I must forever thank reddie-in-the-stars for always responding to the half delirious emails I send with ideas and the likes, I know if I were me I would not. 
> 
> Also I would like to dedicate this chapter specially to did_you_fall_or_let_go, because they are always motiviating me and telling me what interests them! 
> 
> I think notes are the best way to dedicate so that's how chapter's will be from now on I guess!

The next day, Richie and Eddie stood beside each other in doctor's office . Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet. Richie kept glancing at his boyfriend, who wouldn't even turn to look at him. 

Richie worried that he had done something wrong, but he was even more troubled that the other boy was having some sort of breakdown. So he stayed quiet too, remaining next to Eddie with a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

It had been a little hard to get Richie's doctor to agree to look at Eddie—even harder to get him to promise not to tell anyone about it. But the worst part had been physically getting in, which required a bulky, sweat-inducing disguise for Eddie so no one would recognise him. 

It was important to Richie that Eddie made the decision on who should know what, but for the moment the other boy wasn't responding. So Richie made sure no one would know, making the doctor promise and shielding curious gazes directed towards Eddie with his body. 

They were currently waiting in an examination room, Eddie wearing a hospital gown he had been ordered into. The doctor had unhappily promised to keep the visit secret as long as nothing was too wrong with Eddie, telling them he would be back after sorting his other appointments out. 

“Richie?” Eddie asked suddenly, face down and body angled away. The hospital gown the doctor had given Eddie dwarfed him, making him look even younger than he was. 

“Yeah, Eds?” Richie asked, sitting down on the examination table with him. The boy let out a deep breath and looked straight at Richie, eye wide with concentration. 

“Do you think there could be other worlds?” Eddie asked. 

Richie’s face crinkled in confusion. Of course there were other worlds. Didn't Eddie know about the solar system? 

“Like, other dimensions? Where things are different, better even? Or worse?” Eddie continued, hands nervously clasped tight together. 

Richie stared at the boy for a moment. Other dimensions? It was so far out of left field that it took him a moment to even understand the question. 

“I've honestly never thought about it, Eds,” he admitted, shrugging. 

Eddie sighed and the courage seemed to leave his body, draining him until he was hunched over again. 

“I think there might be. I've been having really weird dreams,” Eddie murmured. He reached over to take Richie's hand in his own. 

Richie was silent, trying to wrap his head around what Eddie was saying. Eddie’s dreams were making the other boy think there were different dimensions? Richie had a vague idea of what that meant but thinking about it made his mind hurt. It was easier not to imagine it. 

“I think...I think I might've—” Eddie started to say, but he cut himself off when the door started to open. 

Richie pulled his hand away from Eddie's, annoyed that he even felt like he had to. The doctor walked in, looking disgruntled but not irritated. 

Yet. 

“Now I'll repeat myself,” he started. “If I find anything serious on you Eddie, I am obligated to inform an adult. And I know you're staying with Valentine, so I will file a report with him.” 

Eddie nodded without looking up. Richie wondered just how seriously he was taking the dreams...and just how deeply they were affecting him. 

Richie felt like an asshole for not noticing sooner, but he resolved to make it up to Eddie that weekend. It was his official birthday party, which meant a bunch of extended family he saw twice a year would be cramped into his house, but it also meant a lot of cake and other good sugary foods being doled out. He figured if he could convince Eddie to come, they could spend most of it in his bedroom having fun. 

Not too much, though— just kissing, like Eddie had wanted before. It didn't bother Richie, because what else would they really do? They were only fifteen and fourteen for fuck’s sake. 

The doctor cleared his throat and gave Richie a pointed look before telling him to get off of the table. He did so reluctantly, leaving a listless Eddie on the table. 

“Take off the gown to your waist. You said you had chest pains, right?” the doctor said, arms crossed. Eddie seemed to come alive at the demand, eye wide and breath picked up. The color drained from his face as he finally looked up stare at the doctor. 

But despite his discomfort, Eddie followed the order, eye never leaving the man as he slowly pulled the gown down to his waist, leaving it bunched up over his lower half. 

The man sucked in a breath at the sight of the hole in Eddie's chest, before walking over to the boy. 

“You're starting to develop an infection right here,” the man said, one finger tapping the skin right above the hole. 

Richie leaned forward, peering into the cavern that had ripped Eddie open and put his ribcage on display. It definitely looked worse than the last time Richie had seen it, the skin around the open wound now red and angry looking. It was also weeping a bit, a deep red liquid oozing out of the hole. Eddie winced as the doctor tapped the skin, curling in from pain. 

“And it will spread to the other necrotic wounds if we don’t immediately start you on antibiotics. You’ll also want some pain medication if this is half as painful as it looks,” 

A wave of fear rushed through Richie as he realized the actual medical danger that his boyfriend was in. Eddie looked nauseated, eye shut tight after hearing what the doctor had to say. 

“How did it happen so fast?” Eddie asked, and both the doctor and Richie looked at Eddie. So fast? Had he only developed these chest pains just yesterday morning? 

“Well, Eddie, sometimes we don't know things like this is happening until it's almost too late. Just be glad you came today and not a week later,” the doctor said, tone softened to not scare Eddie further. He glanced at Richie, and his face hardened with the authority that adults always exhibit when children are in danger.

“Boys, I can’t keep this meeting a secret. This is a serious medical issue, and if it gets any worse, I’m afraid we might not be able to fix it with just antibiotics,” her said, gaze switching back and forth between them. 

Richie gulped, knowing it was far more serious than he had anticipated. In fact, the doctor made it sound as if Eddie was close to death. 

“Let me talk to Valentine,” Eddie said, fists bunching the fabric of the gown. “We'll come back tomorrow.” 

The doctor raised his eyebrows, contemplating the words. At last he nodded, stern expression on his face. 

“But if you're not here by 4:00 tomorrow,” he warned, “I'll file the report." 

~~~~~~

Eddie trudged toward Valentine's house. He had agreed to go to Richie's birthday party, but he wondered he would survive that long. 

His chest hadn't been infected two days ago, which meant that a dream had changed him again. Eddie had been so caught up in the fact that the other Eddie had no eyes that he had not even considered what the other’s wounds were like. 

Somehow—again, in a way that he could not explain any better than his fixed vision—the dream had changed him. It was for the worse this time, giving Eddie an infection that could kill him if not treated soon. 

He had changed back into his clothing after the doctor's warning, knowing that Valentine would not want to bring him to the hospital tomorrow. 

Richie had turned around, but Eddie really didn't care anymore. It was always adults that triggered the intense fear that had been fostered by the older Eddie—the fear that had made him feel like he was going to break down when the doctor told him to take the gown off. 

Eddie wished he hadn't agreed to go with Richie, but something in him had known it was only right to. Another part of him was angry at Richie for bringing the idea up at all, but Eddie shoved that part of himself down as far as it would go. 

He walked into Valentine's house, already knowing he would find the man seated on the couch and waiting to push him further. 

So Eddie struck first, walking straight into the living room and standing in front of Valentine, who was right where Eddie knew he would be.

“I need antibiotics,” Eddie told the man, before adding, “and pain medication.” Valentine snorted before standing, towering over Eddie with that typical raised brow. 

“And how are you going to acquire these medicines?” he asked. 

Eddie held his ground and stared straight back up at the man. 

“You’re going to walk me into Derry Hospital tomorrow and get them for me. I’ve already seen a doctor, and if I don’t go back to him tomorrow, he’s going to file a police report.” 

“And who do you think will get that police report?” Valentine said. For the first time, Eddie fully realized the extent of the man’s control over him. Even if the doctor made a report, Valentine could throw it out before anyone else saw it, and if the doctor tried again, Valentine could probably get the man fired somehow. Hell, Valentine could transform that doctor into the town pariah and run him right out of Derry. 

“You can’t do that,” Eddie protested, but he already knew that the man could and would if given the chance. 

Valentine only smiled, bending down to be level with the boy. “We both know I can. In fact, we both know that I can do a lot of things that others can't. You can too, can't you Eddie?” 

Eddie floundered. He had expected to be pushed into killing someone— not whatever Valentine was getting at right now. 

“Eddie, you truly don't realise how expendable you are. I didn't either at first, but I remember now,” Valentine continued, making Eddie's blood run cold. Expendable? Valentine...Valentine knew about the other universes? About the other Eddie's? 

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Eddie said finally, already knowing Valentine knew it was a lie. If he did know about the other universes, perhaps this man had come from a different one than his own. 

“Oh, I know you do, Eddie. Because we both know it isn't just luck that you can see in the sunlight now,” the man said, dismissive now. Eddie inched away from him, ready to flee up the stairs. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Here's just a little food for thought. We didn't have enough evidence to bring Mr. Corcoran in, remember?” he called after the boy. 

Eddie ran up the rest of the stairs, unwilling to think about what that meant. 

~~~~~~

Hours later, the words still repeated in his head, bouncing off his skull as they tried to escape. 

We didn't have enough proof to bring Mr. Corcoran in. But before he had made it sound as if it was obvious that Corcoran had slain at least one if not two of his stepsons. 

We didn't...have...enough...proof.

But fucking Hell, what if they didn't have any proof? What if there was a reason only two wolves had lain dead, not three but two plus a deer? Detectives made mistakes too; they were human. And maybe the Valentine and the rest of the police force suspected that Mr. Corcoran did it, maybe they were even positive. 

But Valentine didn't have enough proof to bring the man in, so instead he sends his Canis Dirus out, letting the boy get a whiff of the crime for excitement. To get the blood pumping, anger throwing all rational thoughts out of the way. 

WE DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH PROOF—

And now the words were screaming inside his head, an unholy chorus just for Eddie, because guess when both the stepchildren died? Last summer, when It was loose and attacking, stealing Derry’s children away, and the police were so desperate for a culprit that when some poor son-of-a-bitch has his two stepchildren go missing, suddenly all focus is on him. 

But they didn't have enough proof. In fact, Eddie was willing to bet they didn't have any proof because there was no way Mr. Corcoran was a wolf. If he had been, there would be three dead wolves slowly rotting in the clearing but there weren’t, because in some way, everyone was connected to those fucking woods, everyone was some creature and when one died the other was soon to follow and JESUS FUCK THEY DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH PROOF—

Eddie buried his face into his pillow and screamed himself hoarse, sobs wracking his body as he choked on his own tears. He had been manipulated into killing an innocent man, who had only chased him because Eddie had thrown rocks at him and had kept throwing until he was caught. 

His throat was beginning to ache as he continued to scream. His tears pooled on the pillow, but he didn't stop, couldn't stop. Eddie had killed an innocent man. If he had never lured Mr. Corcoran into the woods, then maybe the bear wouldn't have attacked. But perhaps he was thinking too far ahead... 

Eddie had killed Mr. Corcoran when he had broken the deer’s neck and ripped its ribcage open. 

His screams broke off as his lungs started to burn for air, but he continued sobbing into his pillow. 

And the clearing, just what the fuck was going on with that clearing? Eddie had already discarded the theory that he had been hallucinating. Hallucinations don't fix your eyesight, or even make you blind. Something was truly off about it, as if there was some sort of tear in the universe where Eddie could step in and become another version of himself. 

Eventually his sobs subsided, and he lifted his head up, wiping the tear tracks from his face. He needed to go back to the clearing, get some answers about anything that was going on his life. He didn't care what answers they were at that point; anything would satisfy him. 

He crept down the stairs after calming down enough to stop crying, careful to pass Valentine’s room as quietly as possible. He opened the front door slowly, making sure to not let it creak, before stepping outside. 

He headed straight into the forest. 

~~~~~

When Eddie reached the clearing, someone else had already beaten him there. 

The phantom stood out in the middle of the clearing, skin still see-through and bluish. He seemed to sense Eddie, waving towards the boy’s general direction. Fear now entirely gone, Eddie walked right up to the phantom.

“I'm going to die because of you, you know,” he said in greeting, standing next to the ghostly double of himself. Because what the hell, life had gone to shit a long time ago. What would a little dying do? In fact, Eddie probably deserved it if he was right about Mr. Corcoran being innocent. 

The phantom shook his head vehemently at the declaration, motioning behind them. Eddie cocked an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say? Do I need to go back in time or some shit?” 

A pause, before an uncertain nod and another gesture behind them. Eddie fell silent, confused and frustrated by the other boy. He could feel his chest leaking with infection thanks to this other Eddie, and the best he could do was charades? 

“Are you trying to show me something?” he whispered finally, and the apparition nodded its head, making a gesture to the far side of the clearing. Eddie recognised it as where the phantom Bill had led the phantom Eddie.

The apparition cocked his head, gesturing again for Eddie to follow him, before turning around. 

Eddie followed him all the way to the edge of the clearing until the phantom stood still and held a hand out in front of him. The air there seemed liquidated, moving up and down slowly and closing around the phantom’s hand when he pushed it through. He turned back to Eddie, gesturing with his other hand for the other boy to try it. 

Eddie stepped right up next to the phantom, staring at the way the other boy pulled his hand out and pushed it in again. Eddie slowly pushed his hand out too, and he felt a cold and slimy resistance. It bent under the pressure of his fingers, allowing him to stretch it out but not breaking for his hand to enter. 

“What is this?” he wondered, pushing harder into the obstruction. It gave way a bit, allowing his fingertips through. Wherever they had went, it was hot. Eddie pulled his hand back fast and watched shadowy holes where his hands had pushed through patch over with the liquid air. 

“ _Not a dream_ ,” the phantom whispered, and pushed more of his own hand through. When he pulled it out, red light came spilling into the night time of the forest, glowing on the grass. Eddie stared at him, mind finally catching up to what was happening. 

“Is that...another world?” Eddie asked, fascinated as he pushed his fingertips through again. The other Eddie nodded, pulling his hand out for a final time. He was starting to disappear, the same way he and Bill had the night before. 

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, “for showing me this.” The phantom nodded again, now only a torso and head. Eddie turned away from him, instead testing the boundaries with his hand again. 

“ _Eddie_ ,” the phantom whispered as he was dissipating, “ _Not all of us are wolves._ ” Eddie whipped around, one hand still in being swallowed by the barrier, ready to ask him what he meant by that.

But he was gone. 

~~~~~~ 

It was 1960 and blistering hot, so Eddie Kaspbrak had decided to spend the day in the forest. 

After defeating It, the Losers had drifted apart. Bill had moved away first, promising to write, but his letters were becoming more and more sporadic. And just a week ago, Richie had announced that he too would be moving away before the start of the school year. 

It saddened Eddie, but in a way he understood that whilst they had been family, it was a family forged out of necessity. Now that It was no longer terrorizing Derry, it seemed the Losers didn't have anything to do anymore. 

That was why Eddie hadn't invited anyone else to go with him, tired of all the noncommittal replies. Not that he hadn't given them himself, as being around the others tended to bring up memories he wished would just stay buried in the recesses of his mind. 

Eddie's mother still fretted about him, and yes he did still carry his inhaler, but gone were the days of popping pills that were nothing more than sugar and water. But even having kicked that habit, Eddie still couldn't find it within himself to stand up to his mom, opting to sneak out instead of telling her where he would be going. It was less stressful that way, for both of them. 

The woods of Derry were almost like a friend to Eddie, the wind whistling through the trees sounding like a hello. He didn’t have any fears of getting hurt in them, from accidents or wild animals. He had never once suffered at the hands of its wrath, and that wouldn’t change anytime soon. He was cerrain of that. 

The clearing Eddie eventually came to was not a new sight. He had led the Losers there once when Bowers and his gang were hunting them down, instincts taking over, telling him that the forest would protect them. And it had, the Losers safely finding their way to the clearing while the Bowers gang had been tripped up and lost them early. They had stayed there for awhile, trees bent low to listen to their conversations. 

Now Eddie was the only one who ever came into the woods anymore. 

The grass was higher and thicker than he remembered, reaching well past his ankles. It jabbed him but not unkindly, the way a friend may bump shoulders with you. The sun was starting to set, leaving the sky bleeding an angry crimson red and casting harsh shadows over everything. Eddie closed his eyes and sat down, grass now obscuring everything but his head. 

“Hey!” 

A quick shout, and then absolute silence again. Eddie gasped as his eyes flew open. He stumbled to his feet. “Who’s there?” he said, whirling around to see where the voice may have came from. 

No response. 

Eddie turned around again, and then he screamed as loud as he could.

A disembodied hand had come out of nowhere, slowly extending towards him, fingers splayed as if the hand was trying to feel around. Eddie wanted to run, but he found himself unable, glued in place by whatever was attempting to cross into his world. A face next, featureless first but an eye soon opened, brown and awestruck. The rest followed soon—a nose and mouth and ears and hair until Eddie recognised the face as his own. Another version of him somehow, clawing himself into the world through some sort of invisible wall. Eddie’s scream stopped, utter shock freezing his body. This new Eddie’s face was half destroyed, one eye gone and a gaping hole in the cheek below the socket. 

They watched each other for a few moments, neither saying a word. The new Eddie looked stuck, one arm and head in the world but the rest of his body somewhere...else. 

“Help me,” he finally rasped, hand outstretched as far as it would go, fingertips almost touching Eddie’s shirt. His face was determined, and he seemed to be struggling as hard as possible against some unknown border that would not allow him through. 

“Who are you?” Eddie choked out, already knowing the answer.

The boy stared at Eddie with one eye for a moment, eyebrow cocked in a way that vaguely reminded Eddie of someone long gone, name now forgotten. “I’m you. I need help getting through, grab my hand and pull,” he said, wiggling his fingers. 

Eddie stared at the hand for a moment, trying to comprehend what was happening, before grabbing the hand and pulling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I draw all the time in class and some boy was like "that's cool" bc I was drawing something from The Shining so being the needy person I am I went home and drew a picture from The Shining for him and just now realising I'm gonna seem really creepy. Oh well, such is life!


	22. Spreading Through Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie tries to cure the infection in a...non-traditional way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry there was no update yesterday, I really don't have any excuse other than I just wasn't feeling all that inspired. I saw It again on Thursday with 2 friends, one of which hadnt ever seen a rated R horror movie and her mouth was hanging open the whole time it was hilarious! 
> 
> Once again, many thanks to reddie-in-the-sky for helping me, especially with Stan who I wrote as some physics defying wizard for some reason lol
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

“I'm gonna call you Eds,” Eddie said, already have confused himself with names. The other boy snorted and said, “Richie always calls me that. I hate it.” Eddie shrugged, so Eds didn't bring up any further protests. 

They were sitting a few feet apart in the tall grass, awkwardly trying to piece together what had happened. Eddie, or Eds, kept inching more and more away from the other boy, arms wrapped protectively around himself. 

“Another Eddie? I would say you're crazy, but I mean, here we are,” Eds said after listening to Eddie explain what had happened with the blind phantom. 

“I would think it's crazy too. I didn't even believe it was true for a while because I kept seeing other versions of me—us, sorry—in dreams. But it was a lot different. Physically, I was them. But mentally I was myself. But now…” Eddie trailed off, simply gesturing between the two boys. Eds nodded, and they fell into a stifling silence. 

“So you're from the future, but you're older than me?” Eds finally asked, skeptical. 

Eddie rolled his eyes but nodded, having already been over the specifics. 

“Well, if you're twelve and I'm fourteen, than yes.” 

“I'm technically older than you if you're really from the future,” the other boy said, shrugging with a triumphant grin. 

Eddie groaned but nodded in acceptance.

“What's it like? With the Losers, in the future?” Eds asked soon after, face curious. 

“I wasn't friends with any of them until just a couple months ago. It's...nice having friends. Sometimes I feel like all I do is hurt them, but that's family, I guess,” Eddie responded, purposely omitting his relationship with Richie. He didn't want to scare away this version of himself, not knowing how the other boy saw Richie.

“Why are you here?” Eds asked, staring at Eddie. Or more specifically, the necrosis that ate away his eye and part of his cheek. 

“I dunno. I didn't mean to come here. I was shown through by that other version of me,” Eddie said before adding, “of us, sorry.” 

“I was thinking it was for medicine at first, but if you're from the future, I guess that doesn't really make sense,” Eds said, gesturing at Eddie's face. 

“Actually, there might be a way you could help with the infection,” Eddie said, realisation dawning on him. If he could somehow do the dream thing with Eds, just long enough for the infection to clear up, then there would be no need to go back to hospital, and Richie wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. 

“If we could find a way to—” Eddie started, but he was cut off by a harsh “Sshh!” when a branch snapped close by. 

And then a voice called out, so near the person’s footsteps could be heard. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

It was a voice that both of them recognised, a Loser with curly hair and awkwardly lanky limbs. 

Stan stepped out of the forest into the clearing and called out again, “You here, Eddie? You invited me here last week, same day, so I thought maybe…” 

“Stan! I didn't—I didn't think you'd be here!” Eds cried, standing up in the tall grass. Eddie stood up too, before realising it was one of the worst mistakes he could have made. 

Stan opened his mouth to greet Eds but cut himself off at the sight of the taller, necrotic Eddie behind him. His eyes widened and he took a step back, frightened look on his face. 

“You're shorter than the Stanley from my universe,” Eddie remarked.

“Holy shit!” Stan shrieked, taking a big step backward. The Eddies took matched steps forwards, talking over each other with explanations. 

“Stan, listen. I can explain. He won't hurt you, I swear—” Eds said, striding forward and putting a hand on Stan's shoulder. Stan flinched back, still staring at Eddie. 

Eddie hung back, hands behind his back. He didn't want to scare off Stan because even if he wasn't the one from his dimension, he was still a Loser. 

And Eddie really hadn't meant to be seen by anyone else, hadn't even known what he had been getting into. 

“Who is he?” Stan asked, face pale and horrified. 

“He's...he's me, but with necrosis and some other disease,” Eds said, struggling to remember exactly what Eddie had. 

“Congenital syphilis,” Eddie supplied, but he shut up when Eds glared at him. 

~~~~~~~

Eventually the shock of seeing a second, scary-looking Eddie had worn off enough that they could try and explain themselves to Stan. The boy had been confused, disbelief on his face the whole time, but hadn't argued. How could you when two versions of your best friend are explaining it to you? 

Eds had managed to get Stan to agree to let them into his basement, if only for the afternoon. They had walked out of the forest in mostly silence, with only the occasional question for Eddie. The two boys were mostly curious about the future and what cool stuff was in it. 

“Atari is cool. Richie has one. Sometimes I go over, and we play on it together,” Eddie had answered, not realising that video games weren't popular or accessible for the public yet. 

"A video game console? What's a video game like?” Stan had asked. 

Eddie took a few moments to think of a response.

“A video game is like a movie, but you get to choose what happens,” he said finally. 

Both boys had awed looks on their faces at the prospect of video games. 

When they reached the edge of the woods, Eddie put the hood of Richie's hoodie on to shield his face in case anyone happened to look their way. He didn't have a whole lot of knowledge about the early 60s, but something told him people would be a little freaked out if they saw his face. 

They made their way to Stan’s house, where Eddie waited outside by a big window looking into the basement. He waited for a couple of minutes while Eds and Stan went inside, before they came downstairs and opened the window. He crawled inside and onto the floor. 

“Now can I tell you why I think he sent me here?” Eddie asked, sitting up. 

Eds nodded and sat down next to him. Stan took the couch. 

“I think it's because of the dreams I was telling you about. Being those other Eddie's changed me, for better and for worse,” Eddie said, leaning into Eds. 

“I think I need to become you. We have to...fuse together in a way. To make the infection go away,” Eddie said, and Eds exchanged a look with Stan. Saying it aloud, it did sound stupid and childish. But it was true, why else would he have been shown into a world where a perfectly healthy Eddie just happened to be? 

“Okaaayy, I'm gonna go grab some snacks. I'll leave you guys to...become one or whatever,” Stan muttered before he got up and headed up the stairs. 

Eds looked back at Eddie with wide eyes, face pale as a sheet. “Could I get hurt?” he asked quietly. 

“I promise nothing bad will happen to you, Eds, and then I'll be out of your life forever,” Eddie said, even as he knew there was a chance that something very bad could happen. Perhaps Eddie would somehow switch bodies entirely with Eds and then what? What if they couldn't get back, and what if Eddie didn't mind? Because he had to admit, having two eyes again might be nice.

Eddie ignored the warning signs in his head, and instead focused on the other version of himself. 

“Just...just concentrate, all right? Usually this step is already done for me,” Eddie murmured before closing his eye. He peeked and was satisfied when he saw Eds had done the same. 

“Now just...just focus on, like, us being the same person. Like, us, all mixed together into one,” Eddie said uncertainly, eye once again closed. He heard Eds shift but received no comment. 

“And just breathe in and out, really slowly,” he continued, following his own instructions. He could hear the other boy doing the same. 

Eddie felt something after a bit, a drowsiness that came over him like a heavy blanket. “In and out…” he mumbled. He could feel something like his body moving, but Eddie felt so out of it that he couldn't tell what was reality anymore. 

“In and out…” the words rang in the air, both having said it at the same time. Eddie blearily tried to open his eye but found himself unable, so instead he just continued to concentrate on the other boy. 

Suddenly, a flash of light and a high ringing noise in his ear and then— 

~~~~~

When Eddie had awoken, his limbs felt heavier than before. He tried to stand up but found one side of his body unresponsive. 

“Eds,” he tried to say, but when he did, it sounded like both he and the other boy had said it at the same time. 

And then, without even thinking to say it or not, his voice and Eds saying, “Eddie?” rang throughout the air. 

“Wait, what?” Eddie exclaimed, but again it was both of their voices. Suddenly he felt himself get up, legs shaky and ready to fall down. Now up, he attempted to take a step and clumsily fell to his knees, but felt himself get up again. 

“Bathroom has a mirror!” Eddie heard both of them say. He made his way there, steps uncertain and shaky. Once inside the bathroom, one hand flipped the light switch on, and he turned to the mirror. 

“Woah,” they said, and separate voices rang out, Eds more high-pitched and sweet tone mixing with Eddie's lower, gruffer register. Their face was slowly changing, the more noticeable freckles on Eds slowly losing color until they were an even mix between the two. 

“This was not what I meant to do,” they said, and Eddie felt more confused than before. Who was he now? Who was Eds? They were some amalgamation of two different versions of the same boy. Their features were perfectly evened out between them on the new face, like someone had taken all of their combined features and mixed them until the face was exactly half and half. 

Or, at least, as much as possible. While the hole in Eddie's cheek was gone, non-existent on the new...new Them he guessed, the blank socket was still there. The skin that was torn around it had been repaired though, smooth and unblemished. 

“Wait! This isn't what you said would happen!” they cried out, and Eddie felt a spike of panic flood his (their?) system. One hand grabbed into the pocket of their shorts, came out with an inhaler, and stuck it in their mouth, sucking the air in hard. 

Eddie gagged at the licorice taste and dropped the inhaler. “That's disgusting!” they said, even as they bent down to try and take another hit. 

“You're giving me an asthma attack!” they said, hands shaking. Eddie seized control, forcing them to calm down, taking deep breaths. 

“You need to calm down. Once you calm down, we can figure out how to pull apart again,” they said. This time both voices were relaxed, overlapping melodically. 

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and both turned to see Stan. He dropped the chip bag he was carrying at the sight of them and stood motionless on the stairs. 

“I guess it worked too well?” he squeaked after a moment, and they shook their head. 

“Too well.” 

~~~~~~

It was more difficult getting apart. Both of the boys had to concentrate, which was hard to do when one was putting themselves into a panic attack and kept taking control of the body they shared. Eddie was frustrated and annoyed, ready to go back to his own time and accept the fact that he was going to have to find another way to cure infection. 

Even though it was an admittedly cool experience to share a body with yourself, Eddie was done with Eds. Eds kept whining and working up into panic, which would then work its way to Eddie and get him into a panic also. And the boy kept using the god awful tasting inhaler, the bittersweet taste coating their throat. 

“Eds, listen! Concentrate!” they shouted, their face always changing from terror to determination. Stan had all but left them to it, watching with an awestruck expression on the couch as the two boys wrestled for control. 

“Calm down? You forced this on to me! I literally cannot breathe because of you. I thought I was done with all of this—” they babbled, and now tears were streaming from the one functioning eye they had. Eddie forced the anger to stay down, not wanting to scare the other boy any more than he already was. 

“Eds, listen. We concentrated on each other to do this, right? So concentrate on yourself now, not anything else,” they said, voice calm but forceful. Eddie closed their eye and focused on their breathing, which slowly evened out. 

They took a deep breath, fear still pinching at Eddie but with less force. Another breath, and the fear started to melt away. Eddie imagined himself melting away from Eds. Being just him again. 

“It's working!” Stan whispered from his spot on the couch, but Eddie ignored the voice and focused on breathing. 

Another deep breath. He imagined them melting apart, limbs becoming his own. Imagined his own face with a hole in his cheek and infection laying ruin to his body, imagined the other boy standing, in Eds’s own separate body. 

Eddie opened his eye and was himself again. He smiled and turned to the other boy, saying “See? We're ourselves again, we weren't stuck or any—” 

He shut up, eye wide as Eds slowly put a hand to his own face. Eddie did the same, feeling around for the hole in cheek. He was met with clear, unbroken skin, not even a slight indent where the mark had been. 

The other boys fingers slowly felt around the crumbling skin on his cheek and gasped. Eds looked at Eddie with large accusing eyes that began to well with tears. 

“You fucking gave me your disease,” Eds choked out, one trembling hand reaching out. Eddie stepped back in the direction of the window, knowing he would have to run soon. 

“I didn't mean to,” he said, taking another step back. Because really he hadn't. All he had wanted was for the infection to be gone, and some part of him knew that the other boy would probably suffer consequences because of it. 

And this was what the phantom Eddie had been warning him about, that not all of the Eddies were wolves, not all of them could deal with a broken body and make the best of it. Some of them were scared of disease and— 

Eds was weak and soft, so Eddie had done what wolves do. He had eaten. Eaten the body the same way he ate the two men he killed, the same way he ate Mr. Corcoran even when his diet was supposed to be strictly wolf, and now he had bitten another living person and taken a little taste. 

“I'm so sorry, Eds,” he said, but he knew it was already too late. His infection had definitely cleared up, the pain now gone. But they had stayed in the shared body for too long, and Eddie was beginning to feel a tightness in his throat that was most likely Eds’s asthma. 

“You're sorry? Look at my face! I'm rotting away the same you as you were! You gave this to me! You tricked me!” Eds screamed, sounding heartbroken and terrified. Stan had gotten up now, one hand loose around Eds in case he broke down. 

“I didn't think that would happen,” Eddie said helplessly, now in front of the open window. He put one hand on the frame of it and prepared to step out. 

“Well, it did. You ruined me, you fucker! I'm gonna rot now!” Eds screamed again, but now he had fallen to his knees, breath coming out hard and fast. He buried his face in his hands, Stan bending down alongside him to comfort him. 

“Get out,” Stan said, face and voice hard. 

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. He stepped outside of the window and ran. 

~~~~~~

A forest. 

Not his forest—this one was dark and menacing, branches swooping low to ensnare him. There were no leaves on the trees either, everything dead and blackened. 

“Oh shit,” Eddie breathed, scanning for any signs of life. He found none, not the bustling of animals or even the cooing of birds. This forest was dead and did not take kindly to living things entering it. 

Eddie felt the tightness in his throat return, the way air seemed to fight against his lungs. Eddie knew that he probably deserved it, especially after lying that Eds wouldn't get hurt, but fuck if he really did not need that right then.  
He had entered the forest and found the clearing, instinctively knowing where it would be. It seemed no matter what universe it was, Eddie Kaspbrak always knew his way around the forest of Derry. 

The portal had been invisible but easy to find. He had waved his hands around in the air for a bit, feeling stupid and shamed and angry until his fingertips stabbed through the liquid air. 

This time he didn't need any help getting through, instead putting all of the bad feelings he had into it, tearing through the air with anger. 

And had found he was not in the clearing of his own world.

He had turned around, prepared to attempt to enter a different universe, but when his hands hit the air, it was not liquid. They chopped through it hopelessly, increasingly desperate as Eddie found no trace of the portal ever being there. 

And he knew again it was his fault somehow, the same way it had been his fault that Mr. Corcoran had died and his fault that Eds was now left with that little spot of necrosis, his fault that everything had gone so utterly to shit in his life. 

“FUCK!” He screamed, words echoing right back to him. Maybe this was his punishment, maybe he had done one too many wrong deeds, and whoever ran the universes had decided it would be best for everyone if this version of Eddie Kaspbrak no longer existed. 

And they were right. He just kept fucking up, kept ruining others’ lives in order to save his own. Eddie could have told Eds that he'd find another way, go back home and tell the doctor what had happened. Could have stolen what he needed, could have bought it illegally or some shit. 

But instead he had pressured his younger counterpart, forcing him into doing whatever it was they had done, had bullied Eds into giving him control and minimised the panic the other boy had rightly been feeling. 

Eddie sat down in the blackened and dead forest of whatever universe he was in and cried, knowing whatever came for him in the forest was justified. 

Because not all Eddie's were wolves, but the ones who were deserved to be put down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after seeing It me and my friends realised there are weird similarities from It to ourselves. For example, our town is named Barre which rhymes with Derry. Okay also there is an abandoned house on my street which is all creepy and stuff, also we have quarrys all over bc we were a granite town, and our friend group is 6 girls and 1 boy. Coincidence?? Yeah probably lol


	23. Childhood Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets a very strange fox in the woods, Eds decides to try and change what had happened, and it's Richie's birthday party tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of fun to write, since I am a fan of small children who have a lot of power. There's a reason Danny is my favorite character ever lol. 
> 
> Also uploads might start being every 2 days, just because chapters are tending to get longer which you know, more time to write more time to edit, all that stuff. 
> 
> Also I feel like I should change the description of this story bc it is def not about what I set out to make at first. But I kinda love it, like you come for sad necrosis Eddie but stay for badass dimension hopping Eddie?? Maybe??
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks so much for reading!!

Nothing came after Eddie right away, so he got up from the forest floor and began trudging forward. He knew something would give chase eventually , even if it wasn’t a physical monster like It. There were also dehydration and starvation to worry about, though he was not yet suffering from them.

Everything in the forest looked the same—same burnt looking tree without leaves, same dead grass to step on, same absence of animals. It was freaky in its sameness, but it was even freakier when Eddie heard footsteps coming from his right. 

“Who’s there?” he shouted, whipping around to face whatever it was. He saw a shape dart behind one of the blackened trees, a small thing with a decidedly human-looking figure. A decidedly _child-looking_ figure. Eddie stepped closer, careful to go as slowly as possible. He didn’t want to scare whoever it was off if it really was a child. 

“Hello?” he called, this time softer and calmer. 

Eddie drew closer to the tree, and a boy stepped out from behind it. He was dirty with tangled brown hair and large brown eyes, which were watery with unshed tears. He quaked under Eddie’s gaze but didn’t run. 

“What’s your name?” Eddie asked, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible. He already knew who this child was, knew there was no possible way he was named anything other than Eddie Kaspbrak. But he didn’t want to scare the kid away by magically knowing the boy’s name. 

The child sniffed and wiped at his eyes before responding, “Eddie.” He hesitated for a second before looking straight at Eddie and saying, “You’re Eddie too. At least, I think.” 

Eddie stared at the younger boy in front of him. “Yes,” he said, “I am.” 

“I’ve never seen me with one eye,” the kid said, pointing to his own eye. 

Eddie reached a hand up and touched his empty socket. 

“I’ve never seen a kid me.” Eddie responded, bending down to be closer to the child’s height. 

“How old are you?” he asked, examining the boy. Eddie had never seen a picture of himself when he was young, but he imagined he looked like the boy when he was five or six. 

“Five,” the child mumbled. Eddie got a bit closer to the boy, now almost right in front of him. 

“Do you have a nickname, Eddie? It’d be weird if we called each other the same thing.”

"My best friend calls me Teddy,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “I wanna see my Richie! I miss him!” And with that, the child burst into tears, heavy sobs that wracked his small frame. 

Eddie shuffled closer to Teddy and put his arms around the crying boy. 

“I miss my Richie too, Teddy. But we have to be brave, huh?” Eddie whispered into his ear, hugging him tight. Teddy continued to sob but hugged Eddie back. 

“Okay, ” the child said after calming a bit. Eddie hesitated for a second, before picking Teddy up. He didn't protest, instead wrapping his arms around Eddie's neck.

“How do you know about other Eddie's, Teddy?” he asked softy. 

“I make doors to other worlds,” the boy said, sniffling and shifting in Eddie’s grasp on him. Eddie stared at the child, eye wide. Doors? As in portals? 

“Could you...make one to get out of here?” he asked, as he began to walk through the forest again. 

The child shook his head no.“I can make them, but not right now. Not with you,” Teddy said without explanation. 

They walked in silence for a bit, the child's breath warm on his neck, before he asked: “Are you and Richie best friends too?” “Well...me and Richie...are more than best friends,” Eddie said cautiously, not wanting to scare the boy. Eddie had no idea what time the kid came from or even what he had been raised like. The boy was silent for a second, before raising his head up from Eddie’s shoulder. 

“So you hold hands and...kiss?” Teddy asked, face scrunched up in confusion. 

Eddie hesitated, footsteps slowing down. “If we did, would you be okay with that? Or would it be bad to you?” In some weird way, if the boy was grossed out by their relationship, it would hurt him. This boy was him—physically another version of him and a very young one at that. If Teddy was grossed out by it, it would be as if Eddie were disgusted with himself. 

“It’s okay. I like holding hands too, but not kissing.” the boy replied, making Eddie almost want to cry from the innocence. He wished he could be that young and sweet again, but he knew he never could be. Never had been. Which was why he decided to be gentle around the younger version of himself, a version of him who had never felt the same rage or sadness or loneliness or any fucked up feeling that Eddie ever had. Teddy was innocent and would remain that way. 

“Yeah, I used to think kissing was weird too,” Eddie said with a laugh as he the boy up higher. 

Teddy wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck again. “A lot of Eddies hand hold with Richie. One time an Eddie tried to come into a world because Richie died, but I had to make him go back.” 

“Wait, what do you mean? You...guard doors too?” Eddie asked, dumbfounded. He thought about the blind Eddie that showed him the portal—or door—to the other world. Teddy was like that? Guarding and showing doorways for other Eddies? 

The child nodded, oblivious to Eddie’s surprise. “Yeah. That’s why I can’t get us out. I would get in big trouble with the others.” 

“Why is that?” Eddie asked. 

“I’m not supposed to create portals to your world or others like yours. I’m not the keeper for them,” Teddy said, like he expected Eddie to understand what that meant. 

“Why is that?” Eddie repeated, careful to not ask too many questions. 

“Because you’re a wolf, so you can only go to other wolf places! It’d be bad if you went to a bunny place or turtle,” the child explained, then added after a pause, “But there’s not a lot of turtle places anymore. He died.” 

“I…” Eddie trailed off. He had so many questions about how the worlds worked, about why some Eddies became guardians and others didn’t, about whether every single person in existence had other versions of themselves like this. He guessed not, since it would be common knowledge if everyone was always jumping into other worlds. So what made Eddie so different? What made him and his other versions able to jump timelines and worlds? 

“I don’t wanna get in trouble,” Teddy murmured “You can get erased if you do.” 

Eddie didn’t comment on that. It sounded too grim to bring up again to Teddy.

“Let me get this straight, Teddy. You guard and protect doorways between certain worlds,” Eddie began. The child nodded.

“And your worlds are your...animal?” Eddie guessed. Everything still confused him. 

The child nodded again and smiled proudly. “Mine is a fox,” he said. 

“Okay, so you can only let...foxes into your worlds. And you can only let other foxes into fox worlds.” Teddy nodded his head yes, head cocked to look at Eddie. 

“And it’s against the rules to let a...mouse into a fox world because something bad could happen?” 

“Foxes eat mice,” Teddy said solemnly. 

“Okay, I think I get it. You can’t have an Eddie enter a world who might hurt that world’s Eddied. They have to go to a world where an Eddie is similar to themselves.” 

“Yeah, kind of. But you’re only supposed to go through if that world doesn’t have an Eddie. It could mess up the world, and then it would have to be erased,” the boy said casually, as if he was telling Eddie how his day at school went. 

Eddie frowned. The blind Eddie had let him into a world that already had an Eddie, but he didn’t mention it to the boy. He didn’t want to get the blind phantom in trouble. 

“So why can’t you make a door to your world, Teddy?” he asked instead. 

Now it was Teddy’s turn to frown, and the boy shrugged. “I dunno. There’s no rule saying you can’t, but you can’t. Like, it’s impossible.” 

“Why? It just seems a bit weird,” Eddie said. If a guardian couldn’t get himself back to his own timeline, what happened? What if he just happened to meet the Eddie of that universe, but the other was a different animal? What if that world’s Eddie was a wolf? 

He knew what then. You had to just wait and hope that a fox came along soon.

“I dunno! That’s just the way it is!” the child whined, tired of the conversation. 

“So how did you get into this dimension anyway?” Eddie asked, hoping to avoid the boy refusing to answer any more questions. Because even if this boy was a door guardian or whatever, he was still a child. And even with his limited knowledge on children, Eddie knew they could throw a fit over anything. 

“Tricked. Another Eddie tricked me into opening a door for him, and then someone else shoved me in,” Teddy said, childish chagrin lost. Now he seemed frightened just from talking about what had happened. It was clear he had never been in a position like this before. 

“Why did he do that?” Eddie asked, shocked. Who would want to get rid of Teddy? He was a five-year-old little sneaky fox, not some 

( _fourteen-year-old wolf who wrought destruction across every world he visited_ ) 

evil person. 

“I wouldn’t open a door for someone else,” the child mumbled, eyes darting all around the bleak forest like he expected the other Eddie to appear at any moment. 

“Do you know who pushed you?” Eddie asked, wanting as much information as possible. Eddie had put his days as Canis Dirus behind him, but people hurting children, especially Teddy, very much deserved to die. But this time, he would be choosing who died. 

“A bad man. He was the one who wanted me to make him a door to a place where a bad Eddie was,” Teddy said absently, head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie stopped walking, throat seizing at the words. A bad man wanted a door into a world with a bad Eddie? Could he have been a man who wanted a killer Eddie? A man who might have a folder labeled Canis Dirus? He coughed hard, before turning his face slightly to look at Teddy. 

“Teddy, do you remember the man’s name? Any part of it?” Eddie asked. The child fidgeted, a look of concentration on his face. 

“Not really,” he admitted, before adding, “It was weird though. He had a funny name.” 

“Maybe it was—” Eddie went silent at the sound of tree branches cracking. He turned around and found that the branches behind them had interlaced, making it impossible to head back. He swung back around and found the same had happened in front of them. 

He held Teddy tighter, turning around in a full circle to see that all the trees had closed in on them. 

“Oh shit,” he breathed as the branches began to interlock tighter around them. Teddy whimpered and shrank against Eddie. The branches began to advance on them, tendrils snaking closer and closer. 

“Teddy, make a door,” Eddie demanded, shuffling away from the nearest branches of the trees. The boy cried out and buried himself in Eddie’s arms as much as possible. 

“I can’t!” he said, voice shrill with fear. “I’ll get in trouble with the others!” 

“My dimension, can you do that Teddy? As soon as possible—right now!” Eddie shouted, ignoring what the child had said. Eddie backed up, one hand up to defend them against the encroaching branches. 

“I can’t!” the child screamed, but he had one hand out, pointing it straight in front of him. The air began to shimmer, becoming watery like the markings of a portal. Eddie felt a branch stab near enough to nick his ear. 

“Teddy, are you done?” he shrieked, turning around and around frantically in an attempt to fend off the branches. 

“YES! GO!” 

Eddie flipped back to the portal and ran at it. It tore easily, one fluid curtain that mended behind them. 

The branches retreated, unlacing and leaving the forest open again now that their prey was gone.

~~~~~~

“All those years of being so fucking careful, and now this,” Eds said, tracing around the hole in his cheek. Stan was silent, allowing the other boy to rant. 

“Why did I let myself be tricked? By myself of all fucking people?” he said, and now he was crying because it wasn't fair. Eds and the rest of the Losers had defeated a fucking shape-shifting monster who killed children, had survived without any serious injuries, but of course the one to give him a disease would be himself. Well, at least another version of himself. 

“My mom is gonna have a heart attack,” Eds said. If his mother freaked out over nosebleeds and broken arms, she would quite possibly die of shock when she heard that Eds had contracted necrosis. 

And it seemed like such a painful and horrible thing to live with. Your body rotting away and all you can do is hope for the best and pray that the doctors can stop it? Eds could barely live with his ‘asthma’ so how was he supposed to live with actual fucking real necrosis? 

“What am I gonna do?” he whispered, and Stan shifted a bit closer, placing one hand on his shoulder. 

“You could follow him. Into his own universe,” Stan suggested. 

Eddie stiffened at the idea, a memory that was definitely not his flooding into his head. 

( _Richie was on the ground, watching Eddie climb the tree. But Eddie was Eds, or at least Eds was seeing through Eddie’s eyes._

_“I love you!” the boy said. Eds wanted to scream them back, feelings flooding his body. Holy fuck, this Eddie had a Richie who openly said that to him, a Richie who looked at him with such adoring eyes, a Richie who probably kissed him and such._

_But his mouth just wouldn’t FUCKING open to say those words back, which was totally unfair because Eddie had the boy in the palm of his hand and kept his mouth shut—what the fuck say the words you piece of shit this is Richie holy mother of god—_

_“I love you too,” he finally said back, and the words were heavenly leaving his mouth because there was a weight to them that left his chest as soon as they were said._

_I love you too, Richie._

_I_

_Love_

_You_ )

“Richie,” and the word left Eds with a sigh because it was the first time he truly realised it. Fuck, it had taken some weird time travel dimension shit, along with a dash of necrosis for good measure, to realise that. And maybe it was just another left-over bit of Eddie, but it felt nice. Because the feeling was not unrequited love, but one where he knew with certainty that the other boy loved him back. 

Stan eyed him weirdly and backed off a little. “I don’t think Richie knows how to get to his world,” he said awkwardly. 

Eds groaned at the slip and shook his head, blush coating his face. “Sorry Stan, I was just thinking about the Losers,” he lied. “But I think that’s a good idea. I’ll go to the clearing and find wherever he was and then…” he trailed off. What would he do? Force Eddie to fuse with him again? Could he do that? Or would that be impossible? Or even worse, how wrong would it be if he could force it? It seemed pretty wrong to force another version of himself into fusing with him.

“You want me to come with you?” Stan asked. “I will, but I have temple tomorrow so…”

Eds shook his head and stood up, starting to walk up the stairs. “It might take longer than that, Stan.” Eds hesitated at the front door, Stan having trailed behind him. “But if my mom asks you anything, can you just say I’m at the movies?” 

Stan nodded dutifully from the top of the stairs.  
“Thanks, Stan. See you later!” he yelled as left the house and began running to the woods. The sooner he could find the clearing and then find Eddie, the sooner he could come back to his own dimension necrosis free. 

He made his way to the clearing in record time and found a boy there already. No, not really a boy. A ghost boy with no eyes, standing right in the middle of the clearing. 

Eds gasped but didn’t turn to run. This was the ghost boy that Eddie had said showed him the portal, the one who helped him in. And as pissed as Eds was by the fact that Eddie had even gotten into this world in the first place, this ghost boy could probably help Eds find the portal. 

With that thought in mind—and a tiny lingering fear over the idea of ghosts—Eds walked up to the phantom with as much confidence as he could muster. 

“I need help finding the portal,” he said, voice as calm and steady as he could make it. The boy was silent, face furrowed with consideration, even the empty sockets creasing slightly.

After a couple of silent moments, the phantom gestured for Eds to follow him and began to walk to the north edge of the clearing. Eds trailed after the him until the ghostly boy stopped. 

The air in front of them seemed to be moving faintly and very slowly. The phantom stuck one hand out and punched through the air as hard as possible, leaving a hole. Eds stepped closer and stuck one hand out as well, fascinated by the portal.

“ _Dangerous,_ ” the phantom said but allowed Eds to stick his hand into the portal. It was sludge-like, hard to push through. It definitely hadn’t seemed as hard when Eddie had gotten into his world. 

“ _Closing. Can’t stay long,_ ” the ghost boy said, features crumpled in sadness. 

Eds ignored the boy, instead digging his hand harder through the portal. Finally a small tear opened so Eds could wiggle his fingertips through. 

“ _Eds!_ ” the other boy exclaimed, and finally he looked back at the ghostly figure, startled by the sudden loud noise. 

The boy was starting to dissipate, legs and arms disappearing quickly. “ _Be careful. Bad waiting for you_ ,” he whispered, almost entirely gone. 

“What’s waiting for me? What’s bad?” Eds asked, fingers pulled out of the portal. 

“ _Bad_ ,” he said simply, and then he was gone. 

~~~~~~

Eddie had continued to carry Teddy once they had left the forest world—carried him all throughout Derry, carried him all the way to Valentine’s house.

He hesitated at the opened door before raising one hand to gently turn Teddy’s head toward him. The boy blinked at him with sleepy eyes but didn’t attempt to rest his head again. 

“Be really quiet, okay,Teddy? No sounds,” he whispered, bringing a finger against his lips. The boy nodded and slumped back down onto Eddie’s shoulder. He crept into the house but allowed his footsteps to make noise when he got inside. No use in pretending he wasn’t there; that would just be even more suspicious. 

Valentine’s voice rang out from the living room., “Home so early, Eddie?” The man sounded both amused and bored.

“Leave me alone!” he shouted, going up the stairs as fast as possible. It wasn't all that easy, considering the five-year-old child clinging to him, but Eddie managed to make it up the stairs and into his room before Valentine could finish a response. 

He slammed the door and dropped Teddy onto his bed, sitting down beside the child. 

Teddy got up and looked around the room, taking in everything. “This is your room?” the child asked. He was staring at the white dial-up phone on a bookshelf with a look of confusion that could mean anything. Maybe he was from a year where dial-ups hadn’t been invented yet, or maybe he was from a year where people talked through holograms. 

Eddie nodded and closed his eye, exhausted. How would he get Teddy back to Teddy’s own dimension? And how would he care for the boy until then? The child might be a door guardian, but the most important part of that sentence was _child_. And Eddie hadn’t exactly had a traditional childhood, so it would be difficult to know how to take care of Teddy properly. 

He stayed like that for awhile until he could hear faint snoring sounds. He opened his eye to see Teddy sleeping on the bed. He stood with a sigh, knowing he would have to find a safe place for the child to sleep for as long as Teddy was stuck in Eddie’s dimension. 

Because if Teddy really couldn’t make doors for himself and could only make doors to worlds other people had already been to, than he would be stuck there for awhile.

Maybe forever. Eddie shook the thought away. He would get Teddy back to the boy’s own time, one way or another. 

Suddenly the phone rang, a private line that had been set up for Eddie's room only. It shook him out of his stupor, and he picked it up quickly, not wanting to wake up Teddy. 

“Hello?” Eddie whispered into the phone. 

“Eddie! I've been trying to call you all day. Valentine said you were out! Are you okay?” Richie asked, breathless from all the questions. 

“Yeah, I'm okay, Richie. But we need to talk as soon as possible,” Eddie said, before adding, “In person.” 

Richie was silent for a moment before finally saying, “Are you trying to break up with me?” The boy sounded close to tears, ready to break down at the prospect.

“NO! No, no, no, Richie, I love you, it's not about our relationship, I swear!” Eddie said, gripping the phone tight in his hand. He wished the cord was long enough to take the phone out of the room so that he wasn't in danger of waking Teddy up. 

“Oh, good...what's it about then?” Richie asked, confused. Eddie sat down, and glanced at the child sleeping in his bed. The other version of himself. He thought about Eds and the blind Eddie and even the older, married version of himself. Of the other dimensions, of the forest that had tried to rip him and Teddy to pieces. Of the child being able to create doors to other world but being confined to the child’s fox world. 

Of a bad man who tried to force Teddy into making a door for him. 

“It's...it's really complicated, Richie. I can explain best in person, tomorrow. It's your birthday party, right?” he said, unwilling to explain on the phone. Richie would probably immediately hang up and never communicate with Eddie ever again. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. We can talk tomorrow, as long as you’re okay,” Richie repliedd. 

Eddie felt tears begin to well up in his eye. As long as he was okay. But what version of him? Was any Eddie really okay, or were they all a slightly different version of fucked up? 

“I’m fine,” he said, voice breaking. “I just miss you.” 

“I miss you too, Eddie Spaghetti. But we’ll see each other tomorrow, right?” Richie said, a smile in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Richie.” Eddie stood up and placed the phone back down on its receiver. He needed to find a place for Teddy to sleep because as much as he adored the boy, Eddie knew it was risking their safety to allow him to sleep in Eddie’s bed. He glanced around the room before deciding on the closet. 

He winced at the choice, but it was the best he had. Eddie just really fucking hated closets. 

He decorated the small closet space as comfortably as possible, not knowing how long the boy would have to stay with him. But there was no way that Eddie wanted Valentine to find out about Teddy—or more importantly, the doors the boy could create. He had an idea about who the bad man was, and if he was right, there was no way Valentine could ever be allowed to catch wind of Teddy. 

After he was done, Eddie gently shook the child awake. “Teddy, we gotta talk about tomorrow,” he murmured, not wanting to startle the boy. 

Teddy looked up at Eddie with bleary eyes, blinking slowly as he sat up. 

“We’re gonna see Richie tomorrow. My Richie, " Eddie said. 

The boy became more awake, wide eyes crinkling with happiness and a smile on his face. 

“Richie!” he cried happily. 

“Yeah, Richie. We have to tell him what happened, with the forest and the doors and everything. But,” Eddie said, “you can’t tell anyone else who you are, okay? We’ll make something up.” 

Teddy nodded, willing to agree to anything to meet Richie, even if it wasn’t his own. 

“And...about sleeping places. I made you a room in the closet, okay? Come look,” Eddie said, standing up and opening the closet door as wide as it would go. 

The boy trailed after him, curious to see inside.

“See here, Teddy. This will be your space, huh?” Eddie said, one hand placed gently on the younger boy’s shoulder. Eddie had hung multicolored fairy-lights from the overhanging bar and put blankets and pillows down on the floor. 

Teddy stared with wide eyes and reached up to touch one of the fairy-lights.

“For me?” he whispered. 

Eddie nodded and crawled into the closet, sitting on the blankets and pillows. Teddy crawled in after Eddie, laying his head down in Eddie’s lap. 

“We’re gonna see Richie tomorrow for real, right?” Teddy asked, chewing on his thumb. 

“Yep. But he’s not gonna be your age, Teddy. He’s fifteen,” Eddie said. Teddy shrugged. 

“He's still Richie,” the boy said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered, “he is.” 

 

~~~~~~~

It was dark by the time Eds made his way past the barrier, and a man was waiting on the other side. 

“Hello,” the man said. He stood right in front of Eds, looking calm and unfazed at the fact that the boy had just torn his way into the universe. 

Eds decided to stay silent, unsure of what to say. 

“Nasty little spot on your face. You get that from Eddie?” the man continued, sounding faintly amused. 

Eds gaped at the man, shocked that he was right. 

The man chuckled. “Bet you're here to beg him to take it back, right? Hoping to talk him into it?” 

He stepped closer to Eds, now a grim smile on his face. “That ain't gonna work, buddy. Both you and I know that boy will take what he wants and give nothing in return.” 

Eds found his voice and let out a hoarse, “Who are you?” 

The man shrugged and kept the same smile on his face. 

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that little spot of necrosis on your face that will slowly travel all throughout your body until you just—” He poked one finger in Ed’s chest. “Rot away.” 

And now tears were threatening to spill from Ed’s eyes because it was true. Fuck, if he didn't get this cleared up right away, he'd probably lose his eye, become some half-rotted freak like Eddie. 

_Or worse, no eyes like that boy who showed you here, no way to see and then you'll never get to see the Losers ever again, holy fuck what are you gonna do? What if you never get to see Richie smile at you ever again?_

Eds sniffed and wiped the tears away, staring down at the ground. “Why are you telling me this? Can you help me?” he asked.

“You want that healed, don't you?” the man said, answering with a question of his own, arms crossed casually. 

Eds stood still and brought one hand up to the mark. It itched faintly, but he forced his hand back down. 

“Yes,” he said, tone determined and face hard, tears now locked firmly under the surface. 

The man raised one eyebrow in the same way Eddie had and strode closer. 

“And what would you do, to get that healed?” he asked. 

Eds hesitated for a second. What would he do? He wanted the hole gone more than anything, have it closed over with new, working skin, and have it planted back on Eddie's face. 

“Anything,” Eds said after the pause. 

The man smiled wide, happy with Eds response. 

“Do you know what Canis Dirus means, Eddie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more similarities : one of my friends rides a bike that's way too big for her - incidentally I also think of her as the leader of our group. 
> 
> One girl looks exactly like a black haired Molly ringlwald - which is what I always imagine Bev like 
> 
> I wear glasses that make my face look stupid and have gotten into trouble numerous times for not shutting my mouth when I should've 
> 
> Yo Stephen King hit me up I got ur gender-bent losers club right here - in Barre ;)))


	24. Out of Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie tries to explain what has happened to Richie, Eds finds himself in a terrible situation, and Valentine reminisces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. First off, I am sooo sorry this is so late. If I'm being honest, I just kinda took a break from this work. But I'm back now, and have a much more clear idea for where this is going!! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading!
> 
> THIS CHAPTER WAS TERRIBLE TO EDIT IM FUMING AHHHH ITALICS CAN GO DIE IM DONNEE

Eddie woke with a stiff neck and groaned, looking around in confusion. It took him a moment to remember that he had fallen asleep in the closet with Teddy, who was currently sprawled over Eddie’s legs in a position that looked very uncomfortable. He shifted. Teddy whined at first but then got off of him and sat up sleepily. 

“G’morning Eddie,” Teddy yawned, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Good morning, Teddy. You hungry?” Eddie asked, crawling out of the closet and standing up. 

Teddy nodded and flopped back down, wrapping the blankets around him. 

“Anything in particular you want?” he asked, and the child groaned sullenly. 

“I dunno, breakfast!” Teddy said, and for the first time Eddie really saw the boy for the five year old he was. Before he had been some mystical force, able to create doors and having answers to tons of Eddie’s questions.

But now, waking up in an uncomfortable position in a strange room - closet actually, - the boy whined and pouted and generally acted his age. 

“I’ll get you breakfast Teddy,” Eddie said affectionately, before walking out of his room and starting down the stairs. 

He could hear the tv and knew that Valentine was up and in the living room, so Eddie waited for a moment at the base of the stairs. Once the coast was clear, he began his trek. 

Eddie padded as quietly as he could into the kitchen, opening the cupboards as slowly and silently as possible. He winced at a slight creak, and the man on the couch rustled. Eddie scanned the drawer and when his eyes landed on the packet of Pop-Tarts he grabbed for it, but only succeeded in rustling more stuff. 

The man on the couch shifted again and this time said, “Eddie?”

_Shit._

“Look at this, Eddie. Someone else was killed last night—a man again,” Valentine called. Eddie ignored him and grabbed the packet of Pop-Tarts, heading straight back up the stairs. 

“Seems like someone is finishing what you couldn’t,” the man said, and Eddie felt his throat go dry. Fucking hell, he didn’t even want to think about that; he had a child version of himself waiting for breakfast in his bedroom. Thinking about the killings or whoever the new killer was and what he or she was doing was not in the forefront of Eddie’s mind. 

When Eddie went back up to his room and into the closet, he discovered that Teddy had fallen asleep again. 

“Here Teddy, you still hungry?” Eddie asked, waking the boy up again with a gentle shake. Teddy groaned but sat up in the small closet space. Eddie held out the package of pop-tarts, waving them. 

“What flavor are they?” the boy asked. “And why do they look weird?” 

Eddie looked at the package in confusion. It was just crinkly silver plastic, no weird design on it or anything. 

“Apple. And what do you mean? They’re just normal Pop-Tarts, Teddy,” he said. 

“In my world, they have Pop-Tart people on the outside!” Teddy said, grumpy. Eddie blinked at the other boy slowly and unwrapped the Pop-Tarts, handing one to the child. 

“Better?” he asked. Teddy nodded and bit into it, most landing on the blanket. Eddie resisted the urge to tell the boy to pick it up and merely sighed. 

“Teddy, today at the party I need you to pretend to be my cousin. I think that’s the best way we can pull this off,” he said instead to the child. Teddy ignored him and continued to devour his Pop-Tart. 

“Are you listening to me?” Eddie asked, the distinct feeling of being an older sibling overtaking him. The boy looked up and nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Eddie sighed, knowing Teddy had no idea what he had just said. 

~~~~~~

Sneaking out of the house with Teddy was just as stressful as Eddie had thought it would be, since the boy was still grumpy and Valentine was still on the couch. Eddie was carrying Teddy, who was not happy with the arrangement. He wiggled in the older boy’s grasp, but Eddie had an iron grip on the child. 

“Please be quiet Teddy!” he hissed, and finally Teddy finally relented, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie fumbled for the door and opened it, stepping out instantly and letting the child down. 

“Remember Teddy, you’re my cousin,” Eddie told him, before hopping on his bike. He gestured for Teddy to get on also, which he did - albeit cautiously. 

“What about a helmet? Or kneepads?” he asked, and Eddie grit his teeth. Fuck kneepads, those things killed with eczema. He glanced back at Teddy and raised one eyebrow in a Valentine fashion.

“You create doors to other dimensions but still worry about bike safety?” he asked, a bit amused. Teddy huffed and wrapped his arms around Eddie tightly. 

“It’s important to be safe!” he shrieked, head bent into Eddie’s back as he started to pedal. Eddie snorted but didn’t respond, instead biking faster to Richie’s house. 

When they got to the house, Teddy peeled himself off of the bike shakily as Eddie took out the old bandages he kept in Richie’s sweatshirt. He had never given the sweatshirt back either, and never intended to. If this visit ended things between them, at least Eddie would have a reminder of the way things used to be. 

He bandaged the side of his face as carefully as possible, making sure his socket and lack-of hole on his cheek wasn’t noticeable. Eddie didn’t really know Richie’s extended family, but if there were any children at the party he didn’t want to scare any of them. 

The door was open, generic 80s music blaring and balloons taped to the outside of the house. Eddie felt himself tighten at the red ones, reminding him of the fucking thing that started this for him. If he hadn’t been caught in that clearing he might be going to Richie’s room to make out with the boy, instead of dragging a five-year-old version of himself behind him. 

Tis life. 

Inside, Eddie recognised no one. With Richie, usually they met at his house when his parents weren’t home. The house was packed, and Eddie was thankful he had brought the bandages with him, because there were certainly a lot of children around. 

They made their way to the living room in search of Richie, until Eddie spotted Mrs. Tozier. The women waved him and Teddy over, gaze immediately locking onto the child. 

“Hello Eddie, I hope you’ve been well,” she said, thankfully not drunk. But she certainly had an edge in her voice, the same one Eddie had heard in his own mother when he was young and someone unfamiliar knocking on the door. His mom would get tense and stand-offish, afraid that the mystery knocker was there to expose Eddie and his horrible deformities to the world. 

Eddie wondered briefly if the women could sense the body-count on him. 

“I’ve been good ma'am, thank you.” he said back politely, before looking down to see a shy Teddy hugging the side of his leg.

“Who’s this?” Richie’s mom asked. Eddie smiled nervously and dragged Teddy a little bit behind him. 

“He’s my cousin,” he responded, squeezing Teddy’s hand. The boy waved from behind him. 

“Oh, I see. You two look a lot alike!” she said, and Eddie didn’t respond, only smiled wider. 

_Oh yes Mrs. Tozier!_ Eddie thought, _we do look a lot alike! In fact, we look exactly the same, because guess what? We’re the same person!_

“If you’re looking for Richie, he’s in his room. Refusing to come to his own party,” she added moodily. Eddie nodded uneasily, a forced smile on his face. Richie’s parents made him uncomfortable, mostly from their I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. Eddie had spent his whole life under the watchful ( _controllingabusivehorrible_ ) eyes of his mother, so to see someone on the other extreme disturbed him. 

After disentangling himself and Teddy from the conversation after plenty of stressful questions about his ‘cute little cousin’, Eddie and the child made their way up the stairs and straight to Richie’s room. Eddie felt his heart pick up a notch when he opened the door, remembering the first time he spent the night. 

And now here he was with a child version of himself, ready to change Richie’s world forever. 

Richie was sitting on his bed, bored expression on his face as he flipped through a comic book. He tossed it onto the bed and stood up when he noticed Eddie at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered, a small smile on his face. 

Eddie blushed and smiled, and for a moment he totally forgot about dimension hopping and wolves and even Teddy, who was standing right behind him. 

Well, at least until Richie noticed. “Who is that?” 

The smile on his face immediately dropped, the blood rushing out of his face. Fuck, now that he was right in front of Richie it was really tempting to just lie and say he had no idea, that the boy had just followed him upstairs. 

“He’s me.” Eddie said instead, dragging Teddy more in front of him. Richie raised his eyebrows and let out a bark of laughter. 

“Seriously Eddie Spaghetti, who is he? One of my families monsters?” he teased, wide grin on his face. It slowly wiped itself off of his face as both boys remained completely serious. 

“I’m Eddie too, but I like Teddy.” the child said, gazing up at Richie with awe. He looked as if he had never seen a teenager before - or more accurately, Richie as a teenager.

Richie frowned slightly but nodded at the boy. “That’s not really all that funny, Eddie. Who is he?” he asked again, now his arms crossed and face unreadable. 

“Listen to me! He’s me, from a different time. It’s hard to explain, but basically I met him when…” Eddie trailed off helplessly, not knowing how to explain what had happened. 

“We met in a scary forest. I made a door to get us out,” Teddy explained as if he thought Richie would understand. Richie stared at the boy, disbelief written all over his face before he took a step towards them and looked directly at Eddie, face angry and confused.

“What the fuck Eddie? Who is this kid?” Richie hissed. 

Eddie held tightly onto Teddy’s hand and let out a deep breath before raising his face to look Richie right in the eye. 

“Richie,” he said slowly, “I told you, Teddy is me. Or at least a kid version of me.” 

The other boy’s hesitated and looked down more closely at Teddy, before his face hardened again. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Eddie! Who is he? Did you kidnap him?” he asked.

“Look at his fucking face Richie! He’s _me!_ ” Eddie shouted, and Teddy whimpered but tilted his face more up for Richie. The other boy stared at Eddie for a moment, before looking down at Teddy. 

He examined the child’s face for a couple moments, eyes widening. He glanced back up at Eddie before breathing out, “Holy shit…” 

“And there’s a lot more of us Richie, a lot more. I, I’ve gone into other worlds and holy fuck, I've talked to tons of different versions of myself!” Eddie blurted out, eye tearing up under the bandages. Richie didn’t say anything, instead just staring at him for a beat. 

“Explanation?” he finally croaked out. Eddie sniffed and tried his hardest to stop crying. 

Everything. He told Richie everything, about Eds and the infection and the scary forest dimension, about meeting Teddy. The child interjected regularly, filling in for when Eddie forget. Neither explained the guardian rules though, not wanting to confuse Richie even more than he already was.

“I’m sorry, Richie. I didn’t want to pull you into this!” Eddie cried after he was finished, taking a step away from the other boy. 

Richie looked unsure, still staring at the two Eddies in front of him. 

“Holy shit, he really is you, isn’t he? That’s really a mini-Eddie?” Richie whispered finally, and Eddie nodded tearfully. He really hadn’t wanted to pull his boyfriend into everything, had just wanted to get everything off of his chest. 

But now that Richie knew about the other Eddies, the other dimensions, and the animals, who knew what the boy would do? Maybe he would demand to take Teddy home, and how would he react when he was told it was impossible? 

“I’m sorry Teddy, could you give me and Eddie a moment?” Richie asked, eyes boring into Eddie. 

Teddy glanced between them and raised his eyebrows at Eddie as he hiccuped. “Okay, I’m gonna eat some cake then,” the child said, before leaving the room. 

Eddie burst into tears.

“I’m sorry I said you kidnapped him. I was just really confused,” Richie said hurriedly, face pained as he watched his boyfriend cry.

Eddie hiccuped. Richie lingered just a couple of feet away, unsure whether it was his place anymore to comfort the boy, until Eddie reached over to him and hugged Richie as tightly as possible. 

Richie hugged him back just as tight, and Eddie let himself relax, if just for a moment. 

“Listen Eddie, I believe he’s you. I just...other dimensions?” Richie asked, voice soft. Eddie let out a shuddering sob before starting to laugh. God he wished he could just tell his boyfriend to forget it, it was a prank and to just kiss him. 

“Yes Richie, other fucking dimensions. Apparently we’re together in a lot of them,” he said, still laughing through the tears. As confused as he was, Richie cracked a grin at that. 

“At least other versions of me are not stupid,” he said, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he looked confused again. Eddie knew just what had to be going through his head, but confronted with Teddy and Eddie’s fixed vision, not to mention the closed hole in his cheek, Richie had no choice but to accept it as truth. 

Eddie reached for his hand and entwined their fingers, staring up at his boyfriend. “Let’s enjoy your birthday party. No more talk of other dimensions and other me and other you.” he suggested. Sure, he had come to spill his soul but the confused, pained look on Richie’s face was so out of character that Eddie was desperate to get things back to normal.

Richie stared at him for a moment, before shrugging. “Okay Eddie Spaghetti,” he said before adding : “but you can’t keep putting this off. You gotta...gotta show me this portal. Explain more,” he said softly. 

Eddie closed his eye and nodded, already dreading that talk. He cleared his throat as it began to tighten, and opened his eye again to take in his boyfriend’s face. 

“I want some of that cake too trashmouth, let’s go.” he said. 

~~~~~

Eds had been dazed all day. 

He was lying blankly in the bedroom of the man (Eds learned that his name was Valentine) who had contracted him. 

Was that the right word, contract? That’s what it felt like, agreeing to...to... _dispose_ of someone. 

“Bullshit,” Eds whispered to himself and dry-heaved at the word. He had already thrown up several times after the incident and being brought back to Valentine’s house. 

He didn’t wanna think about what he had done, didn’t wanna think about the way his hands had shaken and dropped the knife after what he had done, didn’t want to _fucking think_ about the way blood had coated his face- 

The door opened and the man stepped in, looking mildly pleased. “Hello Eddie. How are you feeling?” Eds looked up at the man and retched, nothing left in his stomach but acid. It would leave a stain on the carpet if it wasn't cleaned soon.

“Not well I see,” Valentine sighed, and closed the door behind him. He sat on the bed, as far away from the shaking boy as he could be. 

“Can I just go?” Eds asked as coherently as he could, head pounding and stomach churning. Valentine raised an eyebrow at the boy but remained stoic. 

“You don’t want that healed anymore? Just a couple more and I’d be able to help with it,” the man said. Eds teared up and dry-heaved again, stumbling off of the bed and out of the room. 

“No, no no, no more! I wanna go home, I’ll deal with it, just-” Eds cut himself off as he dry-heaved again, hands clamped over his mouth as he dragged himself down the stairs. Valentine strolled after him, face now frowning. 

“You killed someone last night, Eddie. You can do it again and get yourself healed,” he said as Eds started to cry harder and tried to make his way to the front door. Valentine quickly side-stepped in front of him. 

“Let me out,” Eds cried. All he wanted to do was go to his own world, meet up with Stan and Richie and all the rest of the Losers, just _fucking forget_ the way it felt to stab a grown man- 

“I can’t let you do that Eddie. If you get out there what will people think, seeing another Eddie? But if you continue with the Canis Dirus and get healed I promise you’ll be out sooner than you know,” Valentine said smoothly. 

Eds cried harder and screamed, “LET ME THROUGH!” 

Valentine swallowed hard, eyes narrowed. “You finish what you started and you go home,” he repeated flatly.

“I can’t! I just wanna go home!” Eds sobbed, but the man just frowned even harder. He grabbed the boy roughly by the arm and started to drag Eds further into the house. 

“STOP! Let me go!” Eds screamed, but he found it impossible to break the grip on his arm. 

Valentine didn’t speak, instead just dragging the child with even more force into the dark house. Eds screamed louder, but a large hand clamped over his mouth. He felt himself leave the ground. Valentine held him him over a broad shoulder, steadily walking deeper and deeper into the house. 

Eds heard as a door opened, and twisted his head a far as possible to see stairs leading down to a dark basement. His eyes widened as he saw that and his body acted faster than his mind, mouth opening as far as it could and biting Valentine’s hand as hard as possible. 

The man shouted and suddenly Eds was in the air, watching horrified as the man became farther and farther away from him and he could hear the air whistling and see the stairs he whooshed past and then - 

He let out a scream of agony as his body connected with the harsh floor of the basement.

Eds couldn’t breathe, and it was worse than an asthma attack because he physically couldn’t even suck a breath in. The air was knocked out of him and was refusing to re-enter his lungs. His chest heaved but he didn’t inhale or exhale, simply gasping for air.

His vision was blurring as he desperately tried to suck in a breath, and when he finally did it burned in his lungs. Eds pushed it out with force and sat up, body screaming in protest. He would’ve screamed too, but currently no sound could escape his mouth. He gazed up at the man on the top stair. 

“I’ll check on you some time tomorrow,” Valentine said, eyes closed and face angry. 

Eds felt dazed, but attempted to drag himself to his feet. 

“Wait,” he rasped out, eyes wide and one hand outstretched to Valentine. Fuck fuck fuck fuck he didn’t want to be locked in this dingy basement and he didn’t want to have to wait until tomorrow for the man to come check on him. Most of all he wanted to go back in time and stop himself from killing that man. Holy fuck, Eds had actually killed someone and over what? A hole in his cheek? 

The man ignored him, walking up the stairs and slamming the door. 

Eds listened, horrified as the lock clicked. 

He was left alone in the dark of the basement. 

~~~~~

Valentine was gone when Eddie and Teddy got home, which was a blessing. The older boy knew that one of these days, they wouldn’t be lucky, and the man would catch Eddie trying to sneak Teddy in. And who knew what would happen if that occurred? Eddie didn’t even want to think about it after the days events. 

After the talk, Richie had gotten back to normal as much as he could. His boyfriend laughed and threw cake at Eddie, did bad Voices for the children and opened presents all with the same normal levels of enthusiasm. But he had kept glancing at Eddie, face looking scarily worried. Or his smile would slip when he glanced down at Teddy, who insisted on following Richie around. Eddie forced himself to stop thinking about it as he heaved the sleepy child further into his grip.

After Eddie had placed Teddy in the closet, the child already half-asleep, he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

_Bang!_

Eddie started and dropped his toothbrush onto the tiled floor. It sounded as if someone had thrown something downstairs—someone who was definitely _not_ Valentine. 

He crept out of the bathroom and closed his bedroom door as quietly as possible. If someone was in the house, he didn’t want Teddy to catch wind of it and become frightened. Eddie could take care of whoever it was. 

The banging noises had stopped but then started up again with more frequency as Eddie made his way downstairs. He crept past the living room, realising that the sounds were coming from the basement. 

_Why does everything scary have to originate from a basement?_

When Eddie finally made his way to the basement door, he was surprised to find it locked from the outside. He had never seen that, had never even noticed you could get locked inside. By Valentine, if you defied him just enough. 

Eddie listened to the banging sounds as they reached a fervor before suddenly cutting off entirely. And then a cry. A young, human cry of desperation and terror. He unlocked the door with no hesitation and peered down the stairwell. 

A small figure was lying at the bottom of the stairs beside a plastic cleaning bucket—the perpetrator of all the noise. 

Eddie walked down the first couple of stairs cautiously. 

“Hello?” he called out, and the figure picked up his head. Holy fuck, was that— 

“Eddie?” Eds cried. 

“Eds, what’re you doing here?” Eddie said, stunned, before he rushed down the rest of the steps. 

Eds burst into tears, lying his head back down on the ground. He curled both arms around himself, seeming to struggle for breath. Eddie carefully sat down next to him, one hand on the other boy’s back. They sat in silence for a long moment until Eds spoke. 

“I killed someone,” he said hollowly, arms trembling around him. Eddie stared at the boy. 

_Eds killed someone?_

“Eds,” he said slowly, “did Valentine make you do it?” Because of fucking course Valentine would know about the other worlds, of fucking course he caught Eds in his most vulnerable state, of FUCKING COURSE-

The other boy hung his head in shame and choked out a sob, before slowly sitting up. 

“He, he said he could-” Eds paused and hiccuped, tears multiplying. “He said he could heal me, heal the spot,” and the boy cried harder.

Eddie felt shame bury itself in his gut deep watching Eds. It was all his fault, Valentine had been able to get the poor boy because Eddie had been selfish and decided to take what he wanted from the boy, because he had stolen from a weak and defenseless Eddie, because Eds world was most definitely not a wolf world.

“Eds, was it from a folder?” he asked gently, rubbing the other boys back. Eddie already knew the answer, knew it the moment the boy told him his deed, but he needed to be sure. 

Eds nodded, unable to speak through his choking gasps and tears. Eddie grinned sourly to himself. Canis Dirus, the bane of many Eddie’s existence. But one glance at the sobbing boy wiped his face clean. Eddie had to be here, had to be strong for the other boy because there was no way he could be strong for himself. 

“C’mere Eds,” Eddie said quietly, holding his arms out. Because even if Eds had gone along with Valentine’s plan to continue the murders of the men in the Canis Dirus folder, the other boy had been manipulated. Eds was just a scared boy who wanted the disease that Eddie had given the other boy cleared up. 

Eds let out a gulping sob and crawled over to Eddie, clumsily dropping into his arms and lap. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Eddie soothed, arms wrapped tight around the other boy. Eds started to sob harder, and clung onto the older boy desperately. 

They stayed like that for awhile, until Ed’s breathing evened out and he wasn’t sobbing quite so hard. “Can you walk?” Eddie asked him, letting go of the other boy. 

Eds let out a breath of air and nodded uncertainly. 

“Let’s go to my room. We can figure this out tomorrow,” Eddie said. 

The walk up to his room was scary, Eds stumbling up the stairs and Eddie gripping him as hard as he could without hurting the boy. Once they were up the final set of stairs and safely in his room, Eddie brought them over to the closet. 

Eds hesitated, turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. “What about Valentine?” he asked, terror tinting his voice.

“Let’s just forget about him for a moment, hmm?” Eddie said, leading the other boy into the closet. 

Eds shook his head no but let himself be guided into the brightly-lit space. Teddy was already sleeping, head supported by the wall of the closet. Eds didn’t comment on the child, instead crawling inside with no further protests. 

“We can all sleep in here tonight, okay? I promise I’ll sort it out tomorrow,” Eddie said, crawling in after Eds. 

The other boy bit back a sob and nodded, curling up right next to Eddie’s legs. 

“I promise that we’ll get you back home without that little spot tomorrow, Eds. Then you can go on living your life and just forget this happened,” Eddie said, placing a hand in Ed’s hair. Eds shivered but didn’t move away, allowing the older boy’s fingers to card through his hair. 

“What about...Valentine?” Eds asked, lifting his head to look out the open closet door. Eddie reached over and closed it slowly, until it was just three different versions of the same boy laying down in the soft space. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna take care of him,” Eddie said again, putting his hand back on Ed’s head. 

The other boy hesitated but laid back down on the pillow. “Okay,” he whispered. 

They fell into a silence, only Ed’s breathing to be heard until Teddy started to snore. 

Eddie gulped and looked at the two innocent versions of himself sleeping next to him in the closet. How could someone like Eddie even look like them? How could someone like Valentine even be _allowed_ to look at them? 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would finally put an end to Valentine, prove to the man that he really was the dire wolf Valentine said he was. Because one way or another, that man wasn’t going to be walking out of the house alive. 

Even if it meant that Eddie wouldn’t either. 

~~~~~~~

The diner was surprisingly clean. 

Valentine hadn’t been sure it would even be there, wasn’t sure what would be different about this dimension. He had only just barely started to get all his memories back, an unfortunate side effect when you went through a door but you weren’t an Eddie. 

He walked in, almost expecting to see the same exact waitress from his own dimension, with the same exact outfit and face and everything. He didn’t know whether it was a relief or a let down when an entirely different girl came to sit him down. 

It smelled the same, though— a homey mix of coffee and pie. Valentine slid into the booth that the waitress led him to and picked up the same menu he had picked up countless times before, even if it was his first time at the diner in this dimension. 

He swallowed hard, fingers curled around the laminated menu as he scanned it. 

God, the last time he had been here was in his own dimension, before everything had gone to shit. Before he dimension hopped, before he lost his memories and slowly regained them, before he had shaped Eddie into a dire wolf. 

Fuck, what had Valentine ordered? What had the little boy sitting right next to him ordered? What exactly did the child’s innocent smile look like? What had his face looked like when the coroner drew the sheet back, showed him that the boy hadn’t been smiling in death, had been in pain and terror, how his little boy had screamed. 

Valentine tipped his head back and thought. 

~~~~~

“I saw a wolf today, Daddy! I swear!” Eddie insisted, swinging his legs under the table. 

Valentine chuckled and ruffled his hair, before asking, “Oh yeah? What did it look like?” 

The child bit his lip, head cocked as he thought hard. “He was really big. I think it was _the_ wolf daddy,” he said solemnly, before going back to the children’s menu before him. 

Valentine forced the grin to remain on his face even through his unease. As much as he had accepted that his child was not normal, would not ever be normal, Valentine couldn’t help but get extremely uncomfortable at the talk of other Eddies or their animals or whatever the fuck all that meant for his own Eddie. 

Because while other stepdads worried about connecting with their stepchildren and filling in the shoes of the biological mom or dad, Valentine worried about his little boy being killed by a rogue Eddie who wanted a door made. Or maybe being erased, as the child called it—which Valentine knew the average person called being killed. 

“Well tell him that he’s not supposed to be here, eh? This is a turtle world,” he joked, but none of the tension left him. 

Fuck, Valentine had just wanted to treat Eddie to a dinner out without his mother hounding him, not discussing the inner-politics of the guardian Eddies. His stepson was seven, not even old enough to know what the word politics meant. 

“I want mac and cheese, Daddy,” Eddie said, wolves and turtles already forgotten. 

“Oh? Are you gonna want dessert too?” he teased the child. Eddie giggled and nodded, hair flopping up and down. A waitress came by soon and took their orders, which Valentine gave for both of them. Eddie could get intensely shy when it came to ordering for himself. 

“Do you wanna hear about the door now, Daddy?” Eddie asked after the waitress had walked away. 

The grin on Valentine’s face dropped. He had totally forgotten about the report, almost not wanting to hear it. 

“Yeah, go ahead, Eddie,” he said. It was important to Valentine that he kept a record of every Eddie who ever contacted his own—what their personality was, what their animal was. He was sure some Eddies had no qualms over killing other versions of themselves. 

“Three today. Two of them were turtles, and the other one was a birdie. I forgot what type though,” the child said, shrugging. 

Valentine sighed internally at the slip, wishing Eddie had remembered. It was very important to keep a clear record of all Eddies, in case they could be dangerous to his own. 

“And the wolf. I think he’s...sick,” Eddie whispered solemnly before returning to kicking the table legs. 

Valentine frowned, uneasy and uncomfortable at the mention of the wolf. The Eddies might have had strict rules about who could enter what world and why, but the fact that the wolf might have somehow gotten into their world…

It was terrifying, to say the least. 

They sat in silence after that, until Eddie tugged eagerly on Valentine’s sleeve and exclaimed, “Food!” 

Valentine cocked an eyebrow at the little boy but smiled—until he saw who was placing plates of food down on their table. 

Valentine felt his blood run cold. 

The man that was setting the food down at their table was Mr. Corcoran, and he had killed his stepson.

They had all the proof they needed, but under the Maine law, legally if the man made bail, they couldn’t keep him in custody, not until his trial. And so here he was, face curious as he stared at Eddie. 

Eddie stared back, face unreadable. The little boy knew exactly what had happened to his friend Dorsey, having met other Eddies who warned him of the murder. 

“That’s a cute kid you got there,” Mr. Corcoran said, seemingly casual. 

Valentine narrowed his eyes and put a protective arm around Eddie, drawing the boy closer to him. “Thank you Corcoran,” Valentine said. 

Eddie squirmed under his arm, face turned up to glare at the man. “Dorsey-” the child began to say, but Valentine coughed loudly and gently gripped his arm. Eddie tensed but let himself fall silent, recognising it was not his place. 

“Oh, was he your friend?” Mr. Corcoran said, a smile forming on his face. 

Valentine drew Eddie even closer, so that his whole face was hidden and his body was all but on top of Valentine’s. 

“He was,” Valentine said before and focusing on their food. The man lingered at their table for a moment longer, eyes on the child, before he turned and walked away. 

Valentine released Eddie from his grip and fell back against the back of the booth. 

Fuck, what did the man want with Eddie? Valentine had always tried his hardest to keep his stepson out of any danger, which meant making sure no one he investigated ever came across the child. And now look at what had happened—a child killer on the loose had come into contact with Eddie.

“Eat your food, Eddie. You can have some ice cream if you eat it all,” Valentine said after regaining his composure. 

The child stared at him for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind and began to shovel the mac and cheese into his mouth. 

“Love you Eddie,” Valentine said after a moment, and the child leaned his head against Valentine’s arm, still eating. 

“Love you too, Daddy,” he responded. 

~~~~~~

“What can I get for you, sir?” the waitress asked, drawing Valentine out of his stupor. He brought his head back down, and stared at the menu for a moment. 

“Mac and cheese,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Eddie Corcoran he's my favorite character and he was just a poster in the movie but I still cried at that poster :,(


	25. Bullet Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is thrown into a horrifying situation, Eddie wakes up and deals with the consequences of his actions, and Eddie prepares for the showdown alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Its been sooooo long, far too much time, since I last uploaded a chapter and I do sincerely apologize for that. School has been crazy, but I'm getting back into the swing of things! 
> 
> I must once again give all my thanks to reddie-in-the-stars for working with me tirelessly, I basically spammed her with emails all over thanksgiving break lol. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading!!

The walks home were usually quiet, and this day wasn’t any different. The wind was a bit chilly, so Eddie had put on his warm coat after school let out.

He was excited to go back home and show his Daddy the picture he had drawn. He had labored over it, even staying inside for recess to work on it. 

He knew where it would go, the same place it always went—right on the freezer door, high enough so Mommy couldn't rip it off as soon as she saw it.

Yes, it would go right there, and Daddy would beam at him, ruffle his hair, and praise it. Then he would button Eddie's coat up and tell him to be very careful, tell him that he must run if a bad Eddie tried to get to his clearing and then off Eddie would go, ready to stand guard for a bit—

A faint groan of pain caught the child's attention, and he jolted to a stop, staring into the woods to his left. It was here that he had previously seen the wolf, a ghostly shape that had looked injured and worn out. And now...now the actual wolf was here, the pale phantom of the blind Eddie limping towards him from the trees.

“Hello?” Eddie called, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers curled around the thick paper that he had drawn his picture on, and he inched closer to the woods, to the blue limping figure with a face screwed up in pain and fear.

The ghostly Eddie groaned louder and shook his head. “ _Get out of here, run home. Bad, bad people coming, bad killer—killed Dorsey, killed—_ ” the boy cut himself off abruptly and heaved with pain, and the little boy noticed the dark blue spilling out of the figure.

“Are you hurt?” Eddie whispered, taking another step towards the shadowy figure. The other boy let out a strangled moan and stepped toward Eddie, gesturing behind the child desperately.

“ _Now, run now, run run now—_ ” he wailed. Then a roar ripping down the road, shrill and loud as it stalked closer. Eddie startled and turned from the phantom, watching, horrified, as a rickety car came ripping down the road, straight toward him. 

Eddie shrieked and stumbled out of its way, just seconds before he would have had hit him, before it would have run him down and crushed his bones under its wheels.

The car came to a screeching halt a few feet away from Eddie, who had fallen on the side of the road, chest heaving and eyes watering. The shotgun door flew open and a man stepped out, slamming the door behind him.

“Goddamn, it really is him, eh?” the man said, and Eddie gaped, backing up as fast as he could when he heard the voice. He’d heard it before, had heard it in the diner just a few days ago. It was the man who had killed Dorsey and the other Eddie—Eddie Corcoran—his own stepsons—

“Get ‘im up boys, that’s definitely him,” Corcoran drawled, and the child finally noticed the other men approaching him. He clenched his picture harder, breath picking up as he desperately tried to think of a way to get out of the situation.

One of the men grabbed his arm and yanked him up off of the dirt road, the sudden motion terrifying Eddie. He screamed and jerked back hard, managing to surprise the man enough to slip out of the grasp.

His eyes connected with the Wolf for just a moment, the phantom looking as terrified as himself.

“Help!” Eddie shouted at him, but the ghostly boy only wavered, not stepping out of the woods.

“Help me!” he screamed again, this time for anyone to help and save him. Someone seized his wrist and spun him to face Corcoran and the other, his grip on the picture failing under the pressure. Eddie watched with horror as it fluttered down before getting stepped on.

“Let go! _Let me go!_ LET ME GO!” he screamed, trying to free himself from the grip. 

“Shut the fuck up,” the man who held his arm groaned, and his grip on Eddie grew tighter as the child shrieked and fought against him.

“LET ME GO!” he cried but was silenced when Corcoran suddenly slapped him hard across the face. Eddie whimpered with pain, falling silent as his hand came up to touch his burning cheek. He had never been hit like that, never even been on the receiving end of punishment from his mommy or daddy, but the message of the slap was clearly no talking allowed.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he huffed out sobs, no longer trying to defy and fight back. Corcoran stood by casually as the other man walked him to the truck.

“You killed Dorsey!” he shouted at Corcoran as he was pulled along, fear coursing through his body. Eddie wished more than anything for the Wolf or his daddy or _anyone_ to save him, to stop the men from dragging him into the truck and then from doing God knows what to him.

“And I’ll kill you too,” Corcoran replied, the offhand tone of his voice scaring Eddie more than anything else. His breath caught in his throat, and he slumped forward as the door to the car was opened and Eddie was shoved inside. 

He stumbled forward on his hands and knees onto the seat, now crying harder, hands digging into the harsh fabric of the seats as his throat tightened. 

“Sit down,” Corcoran ordered. Eddie obeyed immediately, turning and sitting on the seat. Tears dripped down his cheeks and met at his chin, splashing onto his coat.

The rest of the men piled in after, Corcoran last. He took the sit across from Eddie, the truck having two rows of seats that faced each other. Eddie gulped desperately for air and turned around, peering out of the window at the phantom boy who had now creeped to the edge of the forest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to scream again but changed his mind when he glanced around at the intimidating men, instead opting to slink down further in his seat as the car started to roll forward. 

He pushed one hand out the open window, some silent offer or prayer to the blind Eddie that stood on the side of the road, form dissipating. One of the men grunted and roughly yanked Eddie's hand back inside, smashing the frail skin and bones against the harsh interior of the truck.

Eddie wailed, lost in the sea of pain that was his hand. It hurt—hurt even more than when he had fallen off his bike and scraped his knees up bad because at least then Valentine had been able to kiss it better, wipe his tears away, and bandage it up.

But here, in this strange car with strange and violent men, no one was there to make it better. Eddie was left with his throbbing hand and panicked mind. He wanted Valentine more than anything.

“Let me go! Let me go, please, please it hurts so much, it hurts—it hurts!” he whimpered, desperately pleading. None of the men responded to him, so Eddie cried louder until Corcoran leaned forward, one hand raised high. Eddie flinched and went quiet, breath escaping in short puffs.

“If you can just _shut up for now_ , we can both get out of this, eh? We’ll get some cash and you get to go home to Valentine,” Corcoran said, sitting back. 

Eddie hiccuped and tried his hardest not to cry, gulping fast. “A...a ransom?” he asked, trying to ignore the dull ache in his hand. 

Corcoran nodded once, eyes boring holes into the boy.

“A lot— a lot of money?” Eddie continued, trying to keep the conversation on the future. He would get out of this, wouldn’t even allow himself to imagine what would happen if Valentine didn’t pay.

“Depends,” Corcoran answered, a small smile on his face. “How much do you think your daddy loves you, Eddie?” 

~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie awoke, the world was light, and the ground was soft. He glanced to his side and saw the two different versions of him sprawled out, still sleeping. They were shoved into the corner of the closet, as far away from the door as possible while Eddie was right in front of it. To defend in case Valentine came back.

His bones creaked when he straightened, a dull pain that made Eddie want to screech. He sighed before reaching over and brushing the hair out of the two younger boys’ eyes, lips turning downward when his fingertips brushed over the mark on Eds’s cheek. The indent where the flesh crumbled away—it should have been on Eddie's face instead. 

The amount of guilt Eddie felt almost choked him, as if it were a physical being that had wrapped its hands around his throat and squeezed. He managed to ignore it, for Eddie had survived much worse choking before. 

He signed again and turned away from the sleeping boys, exiting the closet as quietly as possible before going down the stairs to the kitchen to find something for the other two to eat, Eddie only managed to find the same Pop-Tarts. He groaned but grabbed them, stuffing them into the front pocket of Richie’s sweatshirt. 

After a moment of consideration, Eddie walked over to the knife rack. He grabbed the largest one he could find and curled his fist around it—imagined stabbing Valentine with it. 

The thought left Eddie with a sour taste in his mouth because as much as he despised the man and wanted him dead, Valentine had taken him in. Had made Eddie strong and raised his confidence and taught him all a wolf needed to know. 

It felt wrong to kill his caretaker in such a violent manner. But for now, it was the only weapon Eddie had. Unless— 

Unless Valentine had other ones in his room. 

Eddie turned around and ran up the stairs, still trying to be quiet as to not wake Eds or Teddy. He pushed the door open to Valentines room and scanned it, eyes immediately narrowing in on the closet. 

Maybe he and Valentine kept their secrets in the same place. 

Eddie placed the knife on the bureau before opening the closet door, but he found only what seemed to be an endless row of coats and dress shirts. 

With no hesitation, Eddie began to stick his hands in the pockets of the coats; that's where he would hide anything he didn't want found. In plain sight but still hidden enough to be completely looked over by the average person. 

Eddie had gone through most of the coats and was beginning to give up, certain he was going to have to resort to a bloodbath before his fingers brushed against cool metal. 

Eddie froze and drew in a breath before grabbing the object.

A gun. Right there, Eddie’s finger curled around it hesitantly, hand stuck deep in the pocket of the coat.

He pulled it out and inspected the handgun. Eddie reached in the coat’s other pocket, coming out with a box of shells—ammunition.

He inhaled deeply, thinking of what Valentine had mentioned to him offhandedly about guns—about how to reload, cock, and fire. How to kill. 

Eddie shut the closet door, knowing he wouldn’t need to stab Valentine with the kitchen knife. Not if he could figure out how to use the gun. 

He sat on the edge of Valentine’s bed, moving slowly until he figured out how to reload the gun and then how to cock it. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, but he didn't try to fire the weapon, not wanting to awaken the two sleeping children just yet. 

He had to admit he felt powerful holding the gun and knowing, even if only vaguely, how to use it. Before he had killed savagely, with scissors and screwdrivers—but now he had a real weapon. And it would be clean—one shot Eddie hoped—and then done. Then time to pack up and get on with his life. 

Maybe. 

Eddie carefully placed the loaded weapon and ammunition box on Valentine's bed, right where he would know where to find it. Then he turned and walked out of the room, heading back to his own room to awaken the sleepers. 

Eddie opened the closet door and found Eds and Teddy curled around each other, almost looking like siblings. The guilt tightened its hold on Eddie's neck for a moment before he shrugged the feeling off and shook Eds’s shoulder gently. 

“Time to wake up,” he said, softly as he could. 

Eds shifted and groaned, huddling tighter against the smaller boy to his right. 

Eddie waited a moment longer before shaking Teddy and repeating himself louder. 

Teddy slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes as he blinked. The child took in the other boy sleeping next to him before turning to Eddie. 

“I heard you last night,” he said. “Are you really gonna do it? Take care of Valentine?” Teddy stared at Eddie, now fully awake. 

“Yes,” Eddie responded, mind straying to the gun and ammunition now sitting on Valentine’s bed. 

“What about after that?” 

Eddie shrugged and shook Eds again. Eds groaned but opened his eyes with no other protest. 

“You two hungry?” Eddie asked, pulling two of the packages of Pop-Tarts out of his pocket. 

Teddy wrinkled his nose but held his hand out, not refusing when Eddie placed a Pop-Tart in it. 

Eds simply nodded through his sleepiness and accepted the food, even if he didn’t seem to know exactly what that food was. 

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen,” Eddie said as the boys ate. “You two are leaving for the clearing after eating.” Both boys froze, and Eds’s mouth opened to speak before Eddie shook his head at the boy. 

“Not—you guys are gonna wait for me to come get you, okay? After I’m done with Valentine, we’ll…” He trailed off. What would they do? Hop into some other dimension and simply live out the rest of their lives as fugitives? 

“We’ll work things out,” Eds said and went back to eating. Teddy cocked his head at Eds and smiled at him. Eddie felt hollow at the enthusiasm but nodded along before crawling out of the closet and removing Richie’s sweatshirt, throwing it next to Eds. 

“Put that on, Eds,” Eddie said. A pause. “And I’ll bandage your face up, so you don’t get an infection,” He still felt guilty. He shouldn’t be concerned over this, shouldn’t even have to be sending the boys into the woods, but he did. 

It was Eddie’s fault—for trying to pretend he was something he wasn’t. Just another Eddie bumbling through life, falling in love with his best friend and defeating a clown—

( _and ripping out the throats of other wolves and stabbing men with scissors and getting ready to shoot and kill a man who took you in and FUCKING KILLING AND LOVING IT_ ) 

“Thank you, Eddie,” Eds said, crawling out of the closet after putting on the sweatshirt Teddy following after him. 

“No problem,” Eddie replied, shame rising in his throat, nearly cutting off his air. Instead he turned to the boys and attempted to smile. 

“Now, let’s bandage you up, Eds.” 

~~~~~~~~

Eddie hadn’t done an amazing job bandaging the other boy, but he was gentle and made sure Eds was comfortable. That was all that really mattered to Eddie, with the guilt still clawing his entire being. 

Eds smiled back at him after he was done, and Teddy clung to his leg, which eased Eddie a bit. He supposed it was only reasonable that he feel protective over, well, himself, but that it still made Eddie happy to see the other boys content. 

After all, that was why he was going to kill Valentine—to avenge what Eds had been pushed into doing and what Teddy had endured from the man. Or at least, those were two reasons why; others consisted of revenge and hurt and bloodlust. 

Eddie ruffled Teddy’s hair. “Can you carry him Eds? Just in case,” Eddie said, smiling when Eds immediately lifted the child into his arms. 

It ached to look at them, to see two boys who could have been Eddie when he was younger—to see innocence and trust and hope so bright on their faces. He wanted nothing more than to protect that with everything in him, protect any Eddie he came across. 

He led them down the stairs and to the backdoor, pointing to the woods. “You need to leave. Do you know where to go?” Eddie asked Eds, watching the other boy fidget and adjust Teddy before nodding. 

“Wait, Eddie—” Teddy began, beginning to look panicked. Tears shone in the child’s eyes, but Eddie raised his hand and silenced the boy. 

“You both need to go. Wait in the clearing for me,” Eddie said. He opened the door and ushered the two younger boys out of the house. Eds walked out, Teddy still clutched in Eds’s arms.

“I don’t wanna go, Eddie. I’m scared!” Teddy cried but didn’t attempt to escape the arms holding him. Eddie swallowed hard and covered his eyes with one hand.

“Don’t be, Teddy. Everything is gonna be okay. Like taking candy from a baby,” he said, mouth dry, not wanting to show the other boys that he was scared too.

Because he was frightened, yes, but but mostly furious that Valentine had stepped into his life when it was shit and made it a bigger mess. 

That he had stepped into Eds’s life and ruined it also, forcing Eds to take a weapon and with a little push sending Eds on his way. 

For stranding Teddy in some random forest dimension to die before Eddie had found him. 

Eddie forced a smile for the two boys and pulled the hood of Richie’s sweatshirt a little further over Eds’s head, not wanting anyone to catch a glance of another bandaged boy. Didn’t want Eds mistaken for the Eddie of this dimension, the one who killed without remorse. 

“Just wait for me. If it gets dark and I’m not there, then leave, okay? Teddy, take Eds somewhere he can get healed,” he instructed.Teddy nodded solemnly, eyes wide as the child stared up at Eddie. Eddie nodded back and focused his attention on the older child next. 

“Eds, keep you and Teddy safe if I’m not there. Don’t do anything stupid or dangerous if you don’t have to,” Eddie stressed, and Eds nodded also, eyes determined. 

Eddie hesitated for a moment before moving forward and embracing both of them in a tight hug. After a moment, Eds hugged him back, one arm wrapped around Teddy and the other around Eddie. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie said and released them from his grip. “Time to go.” 

“Okay,” Eds said, but he made no move to leave. Teddy simply stared at Eddie, bottom lip trembling with fear. 

“Time to go,” Eddie repeated, stepping back inside the house. Still Eds stood there, holding Teddy up and making no moves. 

“Go!” Eddie said, harsh and with finality, motioning to the woods. Eds gulped but finally took a few hesitant steps in their direction before looking back a final time. Eddie kept his face stony, gesturing again.

Eds sniffed but turned, Teddy clutching the older boy tightly as they made their descent into the fringe of the woods. 

Eddie slammed the door with a bang and began to prepare for the confrontation. 

~~~~~~~~~

It was a game. 

The rules? Seeing how long Eddie could stand the utter silence of the house before screaming or chickening out. and the prize? A clear shot at Valentine. Eddie had made sure as soon as Eds and Teddy were gone to keep the gun and ammunition with him, almost afraid that if he kept his eyes off of both they would disappear. 

He was left waiting for what felt like hours, pacing upstairs as he occasionally peeked outside.

He didn’t know what to do while he waited. True, Eddie could call Valentine, but really, he wanted the element of surprise on his side when he confronted the man. Or maybe he just wanted some time to think about what he was doing, to come up with a plan. 

Maybe he just wanted some time to imagine what dying felt like. 

“Fuck that,” Eddie muttered, cocking the gun again. He hadn’t shot it yet, but Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to do so. Plus, he wanted to at least have shot _something_ before shooting a living person. 

After a cursory glance over Valentine’s room, he finally decided to mount a pillow on the man’s dresser and stand by the bed, gun raised. 

Eddie fiddled with the weapon for a bit, letting out a gasp as he cocked it. Biting his lip hard, he kept the gun at a height he felt was right, finger slowly pulling the trigger. His teeth sunk into his lip hard enough to draw blood; then he pulled the trigger all the way. 

Eddie let out a shout of surprise and excitement when the trigger clicked back and the gun fired, even as the recoil made him stumble a bit, the loud noise of the bullet careening filling the room. The pillow seemed to explode, stuffing and cotton everywhere within seconds. Eddie whooped louder and dropped the handgun with a clank. He rushed over to the pillow, ripping it away to peer at the hole the bullet had left in the dresser. 

The grin curled on his face as he touched the hole curiously, watching with fascination as it allowed him to press the now pliable wood into a bigger hole. “This will work,” Eddie whispered, picturing the hole implanted in Valentine’s forehead, one final retribution kill. 

It would work. 

It felt good to imagine it, to imagine one final shrill cry from the man as he stumbled back, to imagine what it would feel like to bend down next to him while he was bleeding out and whisper, “You don’t train a dire wolf.” Imagine going down to the clearing, and then…

Eddie didn’t know what would happen then. He didn’t know if he would leave this world behind, try and find somewhere where he could stay with both Teddy and Eds without the universe ripping apart. Without Eddie ripping himself apart with anger and rage and the tightness in his chest that led him to stabbing men with scissors, that led him into the situation he was in now. 

Eddie pondered for a moment before pushing the thoughts aside. Better to worry later, better not to even think about the horror and disappointment on the Losers’ faces when they heard about what their Eddie had done—to see Richie’s betrayed face when the other boy realized what Eddie had done. The promise he had broken. 

Eddie turned and picked the gun up from the floor, pocketing the ammunition box he had left on the bed. He trailed back to his own room, setting the gun and ammunition box next to the dial-up. 

He wasn’t sure whether he should linger a while longer for Valentine to get home, but the thought of Eds and Teddy waiting for him in the clearing made Eddie pause at the rotary and worry his already bleeding lip between his teeth. 

Valentine had a huge blocky cordless phone that the rich could afford to carry around, a “phone on the go” as the man called it. Eddie stared at the rotary for a moment before putting in the number of the Valentine’s phone as quickly as he could.

It rang a few times before Valentine picked up, a long silence passing until Valentine finally said, “Hello?” His voice was rough and disinterested, sounding like he had been awake all night and day. 

“Valentine, get home right now,” Eddie said immediately. “I think it’s about time I put you down.” 

“Oh?” the voice on the other end perked up considerably. “If that’s what you would like to try and do, I won’t take the opportunity from you. But I hope you’ve moved the Eddie in the basement out. We wouldn’t want any interferences, hmm?”

“Oh don’t worry, Valentine,” Eddie said, shaking with the anger and fear he felt. “He’s somewhere safe.”

“Great. I guess I should be heading back now.”

“See you soon.”

“Likewise,” Valentine said before hanging up on the boy. 

Eddie let out a shaky breath and glanced at the handgun and ammunition lying on the table. He took a moment before calling Richie next, pressing the phone up against his ear as hard as possible. 

“Hello?” Richie answered after a couple of rings, no concern or worry in his voice. 

Eddie took a deep breath and twirled the phone cord, breath catching in his throat. “Hi, Richie,” he said finally, no other words able to escape his mouth.

“Eddie Spaghetti! What’re you and lil’ mini-Eddie doing today? Got any plans? Because I heard that cones are half-off today. We could all go down, and we could talk through some of the...dimension stuff.”

Eddie grimaced at the tone and invite. He wished he could accept, drag Teddy and Eds from the clearing and instead just get some ice cream with his boyfriend.

“Richie, I’m just calling….just in case. Just...just wanted to hear you,” Eddie said instead.

“Just in case of what Eddie? Is something up with you or Teddy?”

“No, no I’m...just that some things are gonna change soon. For the better I hope, but who knows? Maybe I’ll just fuck up things worse,” Eddie said, wondering how Teddy and Eds were at the moment. He hoped they were okay, that he was about to fix things for them.

“What’s going on?”

“Can’t say for sure right now. Hopefully it’ll be clean though, one...one and done. I’m not that good of a shot though unfortunately, scissors are more of my th—”

“The fuck, Eddie? What does that mean? Are you gonna kill someone? You promised you wouldn’t—you promised me! And don’t forget you’ve got Teddy to worry about now! You wanna do that to him?” Richie yelled, growing more and more panicked as he tried to understand what Eddie meant.

“This is for Teddy, alright? I know that I promised, but this is really serious—this is gonna protect him and other Eddies and everything,” Eddie snapped. He didn’t want to fight with Richie, not when he could end up dead so soon. Who knew what Valentine had waiting for him.

“What about you Eddie?”

His breath caught for a moment, startled at the question. “What?” he asked, confusion laced in his voice.

“Is it gonna protect you too? Or will you be in danger?”

He almost wanted to cry at Richie’s concern, knowing that someone still cared about him enough to worry.

“I might...I might be in danger for just a bit, Richie but if everything goes well, it’ll protect me too.”

Richie let out a laugh of disbelief. “No way I’m letting this happen. I’m coming over right now.”

“Richie, please don't, promise me that you won't come over here. You could get hurt—”

“Hurt?” Richie shrieked, and Eddie held the phone away from him. “If I could get hurt, what about you, Eddie? Tell me what's going on, right NOW!”

Eddie waited for a moment before placing the phone against his ear again. “Richie, I need you to trust me, okay? Just trust me that things will go okay. If I don't call you back in an hour you can call the cops—”

“Call the cops? Eddie, you're fucking crazy if you think I'm not coming over right now, and then you're gonna explain everything to me again and what's going on—”

“Half an hour.”

Eddie heard Richie pause on the other end of the line, heard his breathing even out as his heart began to slow down.

“If…” the voice hesitated for just a moment. “If I do wait, will you be safe? For real? I’m serious, Eddie, tell me the absolute truth. Just this one thing—tell me the truth.”

“I’ll be safe,” Eddie lied, one hand straying over to the gun lying on the table next to him. He’d need to figure out how to fully load it. There was no way he would walk into a stand-off with Valentine without all the bullets he could get.

“Okay. Jesus fuck, Eddie, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. If I come over there and you’re dead or Teddy is or whoever the fuck this is about…” Richie trailed off, the vague threat in his voice wavering.

Eddie chuckled and stopped fidgeting with the gun, instead reaching over to the ammunition box beside it. “Teddy is out; he’s gonna be okay. Someone is watching him for now. I’m gonna get him back after all this is done.”

“Okay. Now just...hang up before I change my mind and go over there right now.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, and the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught his ear. “Oh, and Richie?” he asked, pushing the curtain blocking his window aside. Valentine’s car was, idling in the driveway.

“Yeah, Eddie Spaghetti?”

His eyes narrowed when the driver’s side door opened.

“Bring a shovel.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie lit his cigarette and glanced at his cellphone, checking for any new text messages from Valentine. 

The motel room smelled stale to him, but Eddie didn’t make any movement. Instead his eyes remained bored into the cellphone, anxiety picking up the longer it took for the man to text him back. 

He had put so much on the line for Valentine, had risked getting shot by the man when his memories were still gone to jog them. He’d kidnapped Eddies and forced them to make him portals—he’d hurt his own, even killed for Valentine. 

He wouldn’t tell himself why. 

The screen lit up suddenly, making Eddie fumble with his cigarette. He allowed it to drop on the carpeted floor as he scrambled to respond, crushing it underneath his foot. 

_End is here. Time to bounce._

Eddie slumped back in the stiff chair and gulped, realizing what the message meant. Valentine and that fucking weird Eddie with only one eye, the one he’d pretended to be the father of—they were about to stand off. Someone was about to die, Valentine or the Eddie—

( _who is only fourteen, you fucking asshole. You gonna let a child die? Guess it doesn’t make too much difference. You’ve let younger die before, for this man who uses you. What, you think he loves you? You think Valentine would ever love someone like you? Is that what you wan—_ ) 

He bit his lip hard and let the phone drop. Not the time and place to think about feelings or anything like that.

Instead he stood and began to pace, knowing he was going to have to track down a guardian Eddie and force the other version of himself to make a portal and then help Valentine clean up after the little Eddie’s brains were painted on the walls. 

He didn’t even consider a different outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw everyone should check out Losers by lgbttrash bc now lollipops are banned from all stories sorry everyone lol


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